Crossfire
by Agent Five
Summary: A conspiracy by an unknown number of government agencies across the world is trying to destroy IR. And yet again they are faced with the infamous question: Who will rescue the rescuers?. Mainly movie verse. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

_All Thunderbirds characters and references are not mine. Pity. All other characters that might crop up are entirely ficticious and not intended to represent any actual person. Good job, too ..._

* * *

"Thunderbird 1 to Thunderbird 2. You seeing this, Virg?"

"Yeah … what the hell - ?"

"Hmm." Scott peered down through the thin cloud layer that hung somewhere beneath the transparent Plexiglas cockpit shielding. "I'm gonna check it out."

"F.A.B. I'll hang here for you."

Scott glanced out to his port side and saw the immense green form that hovered effortlessly on a parallel course. He banked his own craft hard to the right and sank down beneath the cloud line.

Amid the occasional glare of midday sun bouncing off new snow, the complex was almost hidden. Had he not been scouring the surrounding forest for evidence of any further fires, he would not have noticed the place.

"Well?" Virgil urged in interest.

"There's activity." Scott replied distractedly, frowning as he looked down and saw the convoy of vehicles that were making their way across the clearing towards the complex.

"I thought this region fell inside the DMZ." Virgil continued.

"It does."

"Oh."

"I don't like it." Scott muttered as he steered back round for another pass. "Thunderbird 1 to Thunderbird 5."

"Go ahead." Came the quick reply.

"John, we've got some unusual activity in the forest down here."

"Specify "unusual" …?"

Scott looked away from the view and entered a command into the console beside him. The monitor before him flickered into life and clear digital images from the camera nestled in the underbelly of the craft began to play. "Hard to say." Scott replied, zooming the camera in and now able to see more clearly the four snow-covered hangers. "It just doesn't feel right." He tapped in another command and waited a few seconds for the images to transmit.

"What the - " John gasped over the comm.

"That's what I said." Virgil laughed softly.

"Confirm grid reference two-eight-zero-niner?" Scott asked.

"Confirmed." John replied quietly. "But that doesn't make any sense. Give me a moment to check it out."

"Sure." Scott watched the images on the screen and ensured that the camera was making a record of what he had discovered.

"Hey, what's the deal here, Scott?" Came a new voice over the comm.

Scott glanced up from the vid-screen and saw that his huge green companion craft was still holding a steady position above the light clouds. "We just need to check something out, Sprout?"

"What?" Alan urged, "What's so interesting?"

"Those buildings between the trees down there." Virgil began to explain. "We've no record of them."

"So?"

"So we need to see what they are."

"Why?"

"Because this area is meant to be empty."

"And?"

A wide smile pulled at Scott's lips and he glanced back up at Thunderbird 2, suddenly very glad to be flying solo. Alan's eagerness and enthusiasm throughout this - his second - mission had been endearing when they had set out. But that was five hours ago. And Scott didn't have Virgil's patience.

"This is neutral territory." Virgil continued, his voice betraying only the slightest hint of frustration. "And this looks like a military complex."

"Oh."

Scott swung round for another pass and leaned forward to again peer out at the forest clearing, sure that his youngest brother was no doubt attempting the same from the cockpit of Virgil's craft. "How we doing, John?"

"I'm at a loss." John sighed in reply, "I've rechecked the activity reports and military intel from the past few days and there's no mention of anything there. No supply depots or refugee stations or anything."

"Maybe they just got here." Alan offered lightly.

Scott looked back at the digital recording. "I doubt that."

"Any idea on numbers?" John asked.

Scott typed in a new instruction and watched the images on the screen flip into negative. Amid the blackness of the clearing, ghost-like infrared figures could now be seen moving inside the suddenly transparent buildings. "Twenty … maybe thirty." Scott replied, noting the new arrivals that could be seen climbing from the recently arrived trucks. "And most of the vehicles are cold. They've been here for a while."

"Dude …" Virgil breathed.

"I don't understand." John repeated in an almostwhisper. "I checked the area thoroughly. I'd never have directed you on this course if …"

"Hey, no one's blaming you, man." Scott urged quickly. "You can only go on the information you've been given."

"I guess." John conceded, "I sure hope it's a simple oversight."

Scott nodded in agreement but his frown grew. "Somehow I don't think so." He looked back at the digital images that had converted back to the normal live feed. Despite the quality of the recording, it was hard to get a clear view of the complex because of the glare of the snow. "I'm going lower for a closer look."

"What!" Virgil gasped loudly, "Hey? Whoa! Closer? Why?"

"Leave it, Scott." John agreed hurriedly, "I'll call it in. Let the proper authorities deal with it."

"Fine. And while I'm here I'll get them some more info to go on."

"No!" Virgil urged, "Leave it to the military."

"And what if these guys move on?"

"That's not our concern." Virgil replied. "Tell him, Gord."

"Oh, I'm staying well out of this." Came the somewhat amused response.

"Hey, John?" Scott continued, brushing off Virgil's protests with a slight sigh. "You got any comm. traffic coming out of here?"

"Checking …" John responded. "No."

"Odd."

"It's probably nothing." Alan urged. "Come on, Scott. Let's go home, huh? I'm hungry."

Scott smiled in understanding, aware of his own stomach rumbling with the need for post-mission refuelling. It was the adrenaline rush. They always returned to the island energized and ravenous. And Onaha would fire up the grill as soon as she got wind of their impending homecoming.

"Huh? Scott?" Alan persisted, "Come on, man. We've done what we came here to do. This is boring."

Scott laughed despite his concern, amused at the innocent honesty of his little brother.

"Wait."

Scott's smile faded. He didn't like the tone of John's voice and a sudden shudder ran through him.

"There's nothing on the usual bands but they're not using digital. I've got chatter on one of the old VHF frequencies."

"Odd." Virgil observed.

"And?" Scott prompted. "How's your Russian?"

"Fine." Came the uneasy reply. "But they're speaking English."

"Hey?" Scott and Virgil exclaimed in unison.

"They sound American." John confirmed.

"See!" Alan declared merrily. "It's nothing. Probably just a bunch of nerdy saddos who bought themselves some second hand Humveys and are out here playing paint ball."

"Yeah," Scott chuckled, "Maybe."

"It's not precise military language." John continued.

"That's what I'm saying!" Alan sighed in frustration. "Come on, man. It's nothing. Just some war game weirdos."

"It's pretty unstable territory." Scott countered, "Maybe we ought to warn them."

"Maybe we ought to leave them to it." Alan argued. "Come on, dude. Let's go before they see you."

"They can't."

"Dude!" Alan groaned, "Maybe you're off their radar – if they even have one – but they've only got to look up!"

"Leave it, Scott." John joined in. "I'll get onto our contacts and see what's going on."

"I just - "

"Sco-ott …!" Alan whined, "You heard Dad. He doesn't want us hanging around this region too long."

Scott smiled and glanced up towards where he guessed Thunderbird 2 hung above the clouds. "And since when do you do as you're told, Sprout?"

"That's not fair!" Alan protested.

"Yeah, Scott." Virgil agreed, "Alan's done impressively well. Come on. Ditch the curiosity and come home."

"Okay. In a minute. I'll just - " Scott was interrupted by the sudden loud shrill of a warning siren and his heart sank as he spun back to look at the console before him. "Shit!" He hissed and instantly pulled his craft steeply up out of its low pass over the forest. "I've been marked! Taking evasive action!" He managed through clenched teeth as he was pressed hard against his seat and Thunderbird 1 tore up through the clouds. "Virgil, get the _hell_ out of here!"

_tbc ..._


	2. Chapter 2

It was a little after 1 am, island time. The house lights were dim, reserve power providing only the bare essentials through the hours of darkness and focused mainly on the central core of hardware in the office.

Alert status had decreased from full emergency to cautious awareness about twenty-five minutes ago. But no amount of reassurance from the readouts before him could settle the racing pulse that hummed through his head like his own private warning claxon.

Jeff watched the small blue triangle moving across the digital atlas that was spread over the plasma screen before him. A similar green shape was in hot pursuit and he watched their progress in silence. He had listened to their comm. chatter again a few moments ago and knew that they were safe. But his heart would only cease its frantic dance once the two icons hovered over the island co-ordinates. And even then he would not be completely satisfied.

It seemed an age (but was actually only seven minutes) before the display heralded the arrival of the two craft. A few moments after that and he could sense the gentle rumble that ran through the house as powerful thrusters countered the descent and eased the passage of the craft into it's housing deep inside the island.

Thunderbird 2 was also safely back in it's hidden silo a moment later and the atlas was replaced by status reports and refuelling needs of the two craft. Jeff let out a loud sigh of relief and let his head fall forward into his hands.

He had time to gather his thoughts now. It took an average of two minutes and forty seconds to make the journey up through the house from the underground hangars. Longer if you were dreading the reception you would inevitably receive.

Five minutes passed before Jeff heard the first timid footfalls in the corridor beyond his open office. He wiped his tired face with his hands and sat back upright, swivelling his chair round to face the door.

"Hey." Scott ventured carefully; too old to be completely afraid of his father but wise enough to know that instant bravado would be like throwing gasoline onto a fire.

Jeff regarded his son steadily. Silently.

"I guess I owe you an explanation." Scott continued quietly, stepping over the threshold of the office and unfastening the front of his uniform. He watched the unnervingly even face of his father and sighed as he slipped his arms out of the top of the flight suit.

"I didn't want you to go." Jeff said suddenly, tone unreadable.

Scott nodded slowly. "I know." He shrugged and dragged a hand through his hair. "And maybe we could have let them sort themselves out … I mean … the military had been called into help but …"

"The fire took hold quickly."

"Yeah." Scott smiled thinly, "Maybe the snow would have held it back but with the chemical spill it just … well … I don't think they would have been able to put it out without the Firefly."

Jeff nodded in agreement. The blaze had been small at first but still enough to cause a panic. John had received the call and watched the fire's progress for a short while, aware that the remote villages in its path also lay in the midst of uncertain territory.

"Alan did well." Scott offered in a lighter tone and was sure he saw the slightest hint of a smile on his father's mouth. "It was good to be able to trust him to handle things at ground level while Virg and Gord collected water."

Jeff stood slowly from his chair and this time there was a definite, albeit thin, smile. "Good. I'm glad."

Scott returned the smile warily, aware of the danger of being lulled into a false sense of security while in this man's presence.

"But I told you – quite clearly – that you were to get the hell out of there as soon as you could."

Scott swallowed hard. His father might be speaking softly still but the fury was clear in his dark eyes. "Yes, sir." He agreed quietly, "But I thought - "

"No! You didn't think!" Jeff countered angrily, his loud voice finally unleashed and quickly filling the office. "If you _thought_ at all, then you would not have spent another _second_ in that place!"

"But - "

"But _nothing_, Scott, dammit! I _told_ you! In and out as _soon_ as you could!"

Scott met his father's angry glare and stood firm. The key was not to confront but, at the same time, to give any ground was to show weakness. It was easier for him, he knew. He had the advantage of a matching height. His younger, shorter brothers found this experience a whole lot more intimidating.

"God, Scott …!" Jeff sighed loudly and turned away, shaking his head in dismay.

Scott watched patiently, waiting for his chance. Angry or not, his father was a reasonable man. You just had to find the right moment. A skill that Alan was still a long way from discovering.

"They're only just coming out of a civil war over there." Jeff continued, voice calmer and attention taken by the moonlit sea out beyond the high windows. "It was only because the UN troops were there to offer some kind of protection that I agreed to let you go. And they gave you clear co-ordinates as to where was safe to fly."

Scott nodded slowly. "And we followed them precisely."

"I know." Jeff sighed again. "I know." He turned back to face Scott and offered a slight shrug of understanding. "It's not your fault that you came across the place." His frown returned and suddenly he changed tempo again. "But that doesn't excuse the risk you took."

"I needed to check - "

"NO!" Jeff snapped, stabbing towards Scott with an accusatory point. "You should have called it in on your return! What the _hell_ did you think you were doing!"

"I couldn't ignore it, Dad." Scott pleaded evenly, "You know that. We've got personnel out there."

"It's not our problem."

"And what about the civilians, huh? What about the volunteers?" Scott retorted firmly, "That chemical fire got dangerously close to the refugees. And now it seems they've got armed forces congregating in the DMZ!"

"That whole region is volatile." Jeff urged, "Which is why I didn't want you out there in the first place!"

Scott watched the anger slowly settling on his father's tired face and he took a deep breath. "And could you have decided that? Could you have watched those villages burn, knowing that we could have helped?"

"Of course not." Jeff groaned.

Scott stepped closer to his father and nodded slowly. "It's too far into the game for us to be changing the rules, Dad. We have a responsibility."

Jeff looked into Scott's earnest expression and frowned slightly. "And what about your responsibility to me? To this family?"

"What do you mean?"

"You have a responsibility to us as well." Jeff urged, his volume on the rise once more. "You have a responsibility to get your ass and that plane back here in one piece, goddammit!" His voice cracked and he sighed in dismay.

Scott's heart sank as he saw the sudden tears that his father's worry and weariness could no longer prevent. He moved closer to him and reached out to place a hand on his father's arm. "I'm sorry."

The embrace was unexpected. It didn't happen often. And when it did it was usually in the heat of celebratory excitement. This was different. Scott let his arms slide around his father's waist and could feel him trembling as they lingered in an unusually tender moment.

oooo

Scott wandered slowly through to the lounge. Despite the somewhat unsociable hour, Onaha was awake and busy. The smell of toasted cheese greeted him as he stepped into the brightness of the large room and he smiled as he saw her fussing over his brothers.

Onaha turned from the table and smiled merrily as she caught sight of him. She wiped her hands on the apron she had hastily tied over her pyjamas and wandered back into the small kitchenette. "Grilled cheese and tomato?"

"Sounds good." Scott replied and tied the arms of his flight suit around his waist. They were usually expected to have showered and changed before entering the main house but middle of the night missions often allowed the rules to be bent slightly.

"So. You're in one piece, then?" Alan observed between mouthfuls.

Scott watched all eyes rest on him and nodded a reply.

"Slightly mad or completely pissed?" Alan continued, glancing warily in the general direction of their father's office.

"Strangely middling." Scott replied, frowning as he recalled his father's embrace. "More upset than angry."

"Oh shit." Gordon groaned, "I hate that. Give me crazy shouting any day. I hate that silent shit. Feels way worse."

Alan watched his brothers nodding in agreement and frowned in confusion. "Huh? I only ever get loud and furious."

"Can't think why!" Virgil laughed suddenly.

"Yeah!" Gordon enthused, "You'd challenge even Ghandi's patience!"

Somewhat put out by the sudden hilarity that was now directed at him, Alan shrugged and tucked back in to his sandwich.

Virgil slowly calmed and then noticed their older brother's lack of amusement. "You okay?"

"Hm?" Scott was pulled from his thoughts and smiled a reply. "Sure."

oooo

It was no good. He was too awake to sleep and trying to was only making him more restless. He clambered from under the sheets and wandered through to the office.

The sky above the still ocean was beginning to brighten but the house would be quiet for some time yet. Brains would no doubt be awake with the dawn and working in his lab well before the others even had their first thought about stirring. Late night rescues disturbed everyone's rest and only the alarm of another emergency would raise them from their beds.

"Thought you'd be up." Came the quick reply to his comm. request.

Scott smiled and nodded a greeting as his brother slid into view on the plasma screen. He watched John yawning wearily and took a deep breath. "Well?"

"Pen's on the case."

Scott's smile faded. "First impressions?"

"She's getting the usual bureaucratic two-step from both sides of the pond. Everyone's denying all knowledge."

"No surprise."

"Comm. traffic coming out of the place is hard to pick up clearly. VHF distorts easily. And most of what I have managed to get is coded. I've got programmes running but it's proving tough to crack."

"Weird."

"Totally."

Scott frowned in thought. "Suspicious."

"Yup."

"Crap ..."

"The speech patterns falter sometimes and it's hard to tell if it's the weird syntax or if some of these guys might have a heavy accent."

"Ruskies?"

"Don't know."

Scott shook his head slowly. "Don't like it."

"Mmm … neither does Pen. But she's got her man out there on the case." John shrugged slightly, his demeanour then sinking into quiet concern as he regarded the worried face before him. "Dad told me to drop this."

"Figures."

"I can't though. Not now."

"Mmm."

"I've been checking back on news reports and intel and stuff. There's very little info on what exactly happened at the border. And some of the reports seem kind of - "

"Fake?"

John sighed loudly. "I wouldn't go that far. But it doesn't smell right."

"No …"

"Maybe - " John was suddenly distracted by something off screen and moved along the console to work at one of the monitors. "Shit …"

"What?" Scott urged worriedly, sitting forward and desperately wishing he could hear whatever it was that John was obviously listening to.

"Shit!" John repeated, more urgently.

"What?"

"Thunderbird." John uttered breathlessly. "They definitely said 'Thunderbird'."

"Fuck ..."

"I think they've worked out who was spying on them earlier." John continued, his comparatively pale complexion suddenly even paler as he leaned back against his chair and turned to his brother. "Which means, whoever they are … they might know we've seen them."

"Shit."

_tbc ..._


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: having read your reviews (and thank you for them!) I think I ought to clarify that this is movie-verse and the movie was a prequel to the series, hence the characters here are still in the infant stages of IR. Still trying to find their feet, as it were. And so problems such as the ones here described are bound to crop up, the world being as it is, and I thought that it would be fun/interesting to see what might happen. This story is also building on the events of "Mayday".

* * *

"Nothing!" John urged in horror.

"Nothing." Penny repeated with a nod.

"But …" John flopped back against his chair with a sigh and shook his head in confusion.

"The buildings were there, just as Scott described them, but they were deserted and my man said they looked to have been empty for some time."

John frowned and leaned forward to flick up the live feed from the television satellite he had 'borrowed'. The image was clear. Four hangers in the forest clearing and a few trucks scattered among them, just as it had been for the past few days. "Did he go to the right place?"

Penny nodded. "The exact co-ordinates."

"I really don't like this."

"Maybe it was nothing, after all." Penny offered evenly.

"Oh, please! You don't believe that any more than I do!"

"Maybe not. But there's not a lot else we can do about it."

"I guess."

"It's probably best we don't get involved. It's not exactly a stable environment over there right now."

"Which would make it easy to hide any manner of things."

"Conspiracy theories, John? I thought you were more intelligent than that."

John's frown grew and he glanced back at the live feed and the blinking indicator on the communication console that confirmed the open VHF channel. The coded messages persisted but he still had no clue as to where they were being received. They were clever, whoever they were. The old frequency was hard to pin down and easily warped; the signal bounced about all over the place and he was yet to identify the other sources. It shouldn't be hard; there couldn't be many of the old style radios left now that practically everything was digital. But his searching thus far had been fruitless.

"John?"

John was torn from his musings and looked back up at Penny's concerned face.

"We're neutral, John. We have to be. Your father was right when he originally told you to ignore the call."

"Mmm."

"You're not convinced?"

John shook his head slowly, "I get all the political shit, Pen … I understand … but the war ended last week."

"It's still a precarious place to just pop into. Sometimes you have to look at the bigger picture."

"Yeah?" John scoffed suddenly, "_You_ try it, then! You listen to relief workers and UN personnel _begging _for help and then _you_ do fuck all about it!"

"I know, it's hard but - "

"'Hard' doesn't even come close, man!"

Penny's frown grew and she waited patiently for John to calm. He was not one to anger easily but, as much as he was the embodiment of his quieter, calmer mother, the Tracy temper was there, always waiting beneath the surface. And more so since his near-death experience that spring.

After a moment John closed his eyes and groaned softly. "I'm sorry."

Penny smiled thinly, grateful that he was more at ease with backing down than his earthbound siblings. It was his softer temperament after all that won him the prize of a three-weekly stint in high orbit. "Let someone else worry over it."

"I guess."

"What is it, really? Hm? The fact that they were there or the fact that they shot at your brother?"

"Well, surprisingly enough, having these dicks taking pot shots at my family does have a tendency to piss me off!"

"It was just a warning." Penny offered, "And Scott shouldn't have been there."

"Yeah." John dragged a hand through his hair and yawned wearily.

"You look tired, darling. You due to come down from there anytime soon?"

"Day after tomorrow." John nodded.

"Good."

"Mmm." John mumbled, unsure if he was comfortable with not being near his equipment and able to keep an eye on the strange gathering in the forest.

"Well … I ought to go. Things to see, people to do." Penny chuckled and shook her head in dismay at her bad attempt at a joke.

"Sure." John smiled fondly at her. "See ya." He leaned forward to end the communication and then gasped slightly. "Oh, and Pen - "

"I know, I know." Penny smiled, "Mum's the word."

"Whatever." John laughed, "Just don't tell Dad."

"Yeah, that's what I – oh, never mind. Cheerio."

* * *

It felt wrong to be sneaking about and lying to the others. But it wasn't worth the hassle of them knowing. And besides, he was only looking into it. It wasn't like he was actually going to go to Russia.

But still John had a nasty taste in his dry mouth as he searched again through the station's systems to ensure he had erased all evidence of his surveillance. He'd transferred all that he had recorded onto mini-disc and had that well hidden at the bottom of his holdall. You could never be too careful where younger brothers were concerned.

"Thunderbird 3 to Thunderbird 5."

John hurried across to the comm. "Receiving."

"Howdy there, partner." Gordon laughed merrily. "Just in town for supplies. Oh, and to drop off the new sheriff."

"Okay …" John smiled and shook his head in dismay. "Whatever, dude." He looked out through the wide view port and saw the bright red hull of the approaching craft glinting in the sunlight. It was an awesome sight, no matter how many times he saw it.

Alan could be excitable at the best of times but today he was on form. The door to the docking tunnel had barely begun to open when a high-pitched poor imitation of a navy whistle screeched forth.

John winced and stepped back warily from the proximity of the door.

"Captain on deck!" Alan announced merrily and clambered through to the station.

"Dude!" John laughed in wonder. "How much fuel did you have to dump to get that lot on board?"

Alan frowned and looked down at the four bags he was struggling to carry at once. "What?"

"You're only here for a week."

"Six nights, seven days." Alan corrected indignantly.

"Yo, Captain Love Bunny!" Gordon suddenly hollered from the tunnel and soon emerged with a grocery bag and a large, unnecessarily cute pink teddy bear. "You forgot your supplies."

"Ooh." Alan enthused and dumped his luggage in the middle of the floor to hurry back and claim the rest of his belongings.

"Supplies?" John frowned in confusion.

"Oh, don't ask." Gordon sighed, amusement dancing on his face.

Intrigued, John followed Alan into the small kitchenette and gasped as he watched him begin to unpack the contents of the bag onto the narrow worktop. "What's all this?"

"What?" Alan defended, "You think I'm gonna eat that ration shit all week? Dude! I'll end up looking like you."

"Hey!"

"Leave it." Gordon cautioned wearily. "It's not worth the effort." He followed John's gaze towards the snacks and sweets that were ordinarily banned from the house, let alone the station. "I know. Onaha took pity on him."

Alan glanced back at his brothers and grinned mischievously. "Sometimes it's good to be the youngest." He turned to John and shrugged slightly. "Not my fault that you can't store stuff up here for more than a week."

"It's not just that." John countered, "You have to be careful what you eat up here because - "

"Let him be." Gordon suggested quickly. A little too quickly. He winked knowingly at John and turned back towards the docking tunnel. "I'm sure he'll be fine."

John bit his lip to hide his grin and backed away from Alan. He collected his bag and took a deep breath. "Well." He cleared his throat and smiled as he watched Alan already tucking into a chocolate muffin. "You want me to run through the systems one last time?"

"Nah." Alan mumbled.

John nodded doubtfully, remembering the serious lack of attention Alan had been paying on his first stay here the previous month. "Sure?"

"I'll be fine!" Alan managed between mouthfuls and waved towards the door. "Get out of here and stop fussing!"

"Okay." John raised his hands apologetically, "Just … you know where I am if you need me."

Alan groaned in frustration and pointed towards the door in annoyance. "Go, already!"

oooo

John watched in silence as the station moved out of view and Thunderbird 3 thrust forwards gently, pressing him back against the seat.

"He'll be fine." Gordon offered quietly.

John turned and watched his brother frowning in concentration as he guided the craft into its homeward descent. He nodded and took a deep breath. "I know."

"There's more to him than stinky feet and whining."

John laughed loudly. "Yeah. I know." He smiled and nodded slowly. "I'm just not looking forward to cleaning up after him."

"Mmm. Here's hoping he works out how to puke through the waste disposal hatch."

"What?" John gasped, "Ew! You don't think - " He grimaced at the idea and closed his eyes.

"He'll be fine!" Gordon laughed. "He'll just be buzzing with all that sugar and needing to pee every five minutes!"

"I tried to tell him." John agreed, "No one would eat that ration stuff unless there was a good reason."

"I know. We all know that. He'll just have to learn the hard way."

"And Dad will blame us for the consequences."

"Dude!" Gordon laughed, "For six nights and seven days free of my darling little brother, I'll take whatever Dad can throw at me!"

John smiled and nodded in agreement but his amusement faded as Gordon turned his attention back to flying the rocket. John let his gaze wander to the bag tucked safely under the seat beside him, suddenly knowing that if his father knew what he had been doing the past few days, Alan's sticky mess of his station was going to be the least of his worries.

_tbc ..._


	4. Chapter 4

Scott rarely smoked. He used to; a habit he picked up in the air force that was hard to shake at first but soon the nicotine withdrawal became a minor concern next to the nagging of his family. So now it was the occasional cigar on special occasions (or simply when he and his father fancied one) and a few drags of hidden contraband when he was stressed.

Right now it was a good excuse to get out of the house and John followed after him. They headed down the stony path towards the cliffs, far from the main complex and away from the accusatory glares of its occupants. Or so anyone would assume.

Scott lit up the cigarette he wasn't really in the mood for and took in a few breaths of the pungent smoke. Their cover had to be convincing.

"I just couldn't get away, last night." Scott sighed in dismay. "Dad was up in his office for ages and the others were too awake for me to sneak about." He turned to John and shrugged his shoulders. "So. What did you find out?"

John shoved his hands into his pockets and strode out along the cliff top path. His excuse for being out here was to get some fresh air and exercise; he ought to look like he had walked for a while and so he started pacing. It was also good cover for the anxiety that was brewing inside him; he had spent all night worrying about how Scott might react to what he had to say.

"John?" Scott urged, frowning in concern as he watched his brother's quick march back and forth along the rocks.

"You're not gonna like this." John sighed after a moment.

"What …?" Scott responded cautiously.

"They're mercenaries."

"Hey?"

John nodded slowly, "Hired to protect an 'investment'."

"What 'investment'?"

"Don't know."

"But …" Scott frowned, "What …? I mean … how …?"

"It's similar to an old World War II code."

"Huh?"

John nodded slowly, glancing warily back towards the house. "Navajo mainly, mixed with some English terms." A small smile of pleasure and pride danced on his mouth. "I suddenly recognised a few of the clearer words and the syntax works." He shrugged slightly, "Took me _hours_ to convert all the pieces of conscripts once I had the cipher and even then, most of it didn't make sense."

"And they're still there?"

"They were this morning." John nodded and retraced his steps for the umpteenth time.

"And Pen?"

John stopped in his tracks and took a deep breath. "She's with Dad on this. She's backed well off."

"Shit …" Scott closed his eyes and hung his head.

"So I carried on digging by myself."

"You did?"

"It's a mystery." A small smile pulled on John's lips, "And you know what a sucker I am for a good puzzle."

Scott nodded slowly. "So what's this 'investment'?"

"Not sure."

Scott sighed and sucked a little heavier on what remained of his cigarette, frowning as he remembered he had only brought one out with him. He looked back up at his brother and watched John pawing at the smooth rocks with his foot. It was a while since he had seen him appear so uneasy. Junior high, in fact. "What is it …?"

"Well … they made mention of us and … well … they were kinda pissed to have been seen. I don't like the fact that we don't know who they are and yet they have high grade weaponry."

Scott could suddenly read his brother clearly. Not that it was rocket science. He now knew himself what it was like to suddenly be targeted but John was reliving the impact.

"With the situation as it is over there, everyone's being warned to stay away while the UN clear up the mess. No one's going to risk going in there and sparking off more trouble."

Scott frowned and shuddered uncomfortably. "Man, I wish I'd never seen that place!"

"Mmm."

"Maybe - "

A loud siren that erupted from the complex behind them suddenly interrupted Scott's thoughts and the two of them instantly broke into a run back up towards the house.

They charged up into the office to find everyone already congregating in the quickly morphing room and anxious faces watching the display screens that slowly unfurled from the rotating desk.

"What is it?" Gordon asked their father worriedly.

Jeff shrugged a reply and frowned in concern as the shutters closed and the room darkened. "Alan?" he called worriedly across the comm.

"Hey guys."

John could feel his shoulders tensing as he watched his brother smiling merrily up at them from the plasma screen.

"Testing. Testing. 1, 2, 3." Alan chuckled and reached up to tap the screen with his fingers.

"What!" John demanded angrily.

"You little shit!" Scott fumed, "You are _so_ dead!"

"Alan, this equipment is not a to - "

"Wo! Dudes!" Alan laughed again, "Calm down! Geez! There is a call, okay. I was just joking."

"Still not laughing." Virgil commented dryly.

"Patching the co-ordinates through now. It's a USAF fighter plane. They say they had to ditch because of a malfunction and they're taking on water."

"Where's the military?"

"They don't want to risk an extraction because of …" Alan looked away to read something off screen, "Turbulent international relations."

"Huh?" Virgil frowned.

Scott looked at John. John looked at Scott.

"Where are they?" Jeff asked warily.

"The Caspian Sea. In the north part."

"Oh _hell_ …" Jeff sighed and turned slowly to face the expectant gaze of his family and colleagues.

Scott moved towards the larger than life image of himself and shook his head in dismay.

"Scott - " Jeff began.

"No! We're not even going to discuss this." Scott countered quickly, clenching his fists at his side as he waited for the screen door to slide away and allow him access to the elevator behind.

"Boys, wait…" Jeff sighed as he watched his other sons head towards their respective doors with equal determination. "I can't let you go."

"USAF, Dad."Gordon reminded him calmly, "What if that was Scott out there?"

Jeff stood up straight and shook his head. "I would make the same decision. It's too dangerous."

"The war is _over_!" Scott shouted angrily, spinning round to face his father. "We're not taking sides! We're not interfering, dammit!"

Jeff visibly tensed and glared at his eldest son in fury.

"He … um … he h-h-has a point." Brains offered suddenly, "And it should be qu-qu-qu-relatively easy. The rescue platform could simply hoist the whole plane out of the wa-wa-wa-sea."

"In and out in no time."Virgil agreed. "We can get them to friendly turf and then bug out."

Jeff closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose through thumb and forefinger. "Okay. Get in the air. I'll get intel on the area. First sign of trouble and you come _straight_ home!" He directed that last comment towards John and watched him nod in firm agreement. "Very well." He sighed, "Thunderbirds are go."

Scott smiled and turned back to his image that concealed the door.

"Not you." Jeff husked.

Scott closed his eyes and held his breath.

"You're grounded."

* * *

It was cold. Even through the thermal under layer of the flight suit, John could sense the chill in the wind that buffeted against him and whistled around his helmet. At ground level, May warmth had well and truly begun but amid the dark clouds of an evening storm, with the wind rushing by, it was hard to believe it was almost summer. 

"You okay, John?"

"Fine." He peered down through the open doors and out of the underbelly of Thunderbird 2. Not seventy feet beneath him was the slowly nose-diving plane, rocking gently in the choppy waters of the Caspian Sea. "Lowering rescue platform."

"F.A.B." Virgil agreed, "Thunderbird 5? How we doing, Alan?"

"Sky's clear." Came the stern reply over the comm. "You getting anything from the crew?"

"Negative."

"Crap." Alan hissed.

They had lost contact with the two pilots during the flight here and had assumed the worst. The fact that the plane was still in one piece was of some comfort but the silence was concerning.

John gripped the railings that encircled him and held his breath as the platform sank down towards the water. Brains had confirmed that the rescue lines ought to be strong enough to lift the whole plane but the weight and drag would mean that Virgil would not be able to get them out of harms way in a hurry. It seemed wiser to get the pilots out of the plane, despite how scary this prospect might be.

The wind rocked the platform and had started it on a slow pendulum swing. John crouched down to brace himself, ready for the impact with the surface of the water. He frowned as he peered out at the ever-nearing plane and suddenly saw why the pilots were no longer communicating. "Oh fuck …"

"What?" Virgil urged worriedly.

"Oh no …" John groaned and stopped the platform's descent. Standing slowly, he leaned over the side rails and stared in horror at the canopy of the jet. It was riddled with bullet holes and the red splashes inside the glass told of the fatal impact of the shots.

"What is it?" Gordon insisted.

"It doesn't look good." John breathed, hardly able to say the words. "They've been shot."

"What?"

John winced as all three of his brothers gasped in shock.

"Let's get the hell out of here!" Gordon ordered quickly.

"No, wait!" John countered, "We need to know what happened."

"It's obvious what happened!" Alan protested worriedly.

"I mean beforehand." John continued, his eyes still fixed on the bullet holes that could only have been made if someone was shooting from above the plane. They had been easy targets in the water. It made him shudder to think that they had been helpless against whoever had done this. "We need the data recorder."

"You _sure_?" Virgil urged worriedly.

"Yeah." John nodded and set the platform back on a slow descent.

Breaking what remained of the canopy was relatively easy but clambering in beside the pilots made John decidedly nauseous. He carefully balanced himself on the outer edges of the cockpit and carefully reached under the helmets of the two men to confirm what he already knew. Neither of the two had a pulse and he sighed in dismay.

"How's it going?" Virgil asked softly.

"Got it." John replied and looked up to see the rescue platform suspended a little off to one side. "Can you bring her closer, Virg?"

The immense green craft responded with a low rumble of forward thrust and the platform edged nearer. John reached up for the side railings to pull himself up but a gust of wind jolted the platform out of reach and he toppled forward, almost losing his balance. What he did lose was his grip on the data recorder and he groaned as it tumbled down into the cockpit. With a sigh, he stepped down between the pilot's legs and reached down to grab the box.

"You okay?" Gordon asked in concern.

"Groovy." John replied, brushing his arm against the pilot's legs and smearing blood over his flight suit. He swallowed back the bile in his throat and began to clamber back up onto the canopy remains.

He had noticed it a few moments ago and thought nothing of it but now the flashing red light on the control panel in front of the pilot's slumped form was starting to bug him. John leaned closer and his heart slammed against his chest. "Oh shit!"

"What?" Virgil gasped.

"Get us out of here!" John shouted in a panic and made a sudden leap for the rescue platform, only just making it. "Go!"

"You need to winch back in." Virgil suggested.

"No time for any of that shit!" John cried out, "Fucking move it, Virg!"

"Okay. Hang on."

Thunderbird 2 quickly ascended and thrust forward, the rescue platform swinging wildly out behind it and John hanging precariously from the side. Gordon looked down through the open doors in the underbelly of the craft and frowned as he wondered what had spooked John. The sudden explosion gave him his answer.

The fighter plane erupted into a ball of flames, pieces of canopy and fuselage darting through the air. The force of the blast shuddered through his craft and Gordon sighed in relief, glad that his very fortunate brother had been clear of the explosion.

"What the hell - ?" Alan muttered in disbelief.

"Dude …" Virgil agreed, "You okay down there, John?"

There was no reply.

"John? Gordon, can you see him? Is he okay?"

Gordon frowned as he peered down at the yellow platform that hung from Thunderbird 2's open cargo hold and his heart sank. It was empty.


	5. Chapter 5

The impact with the surface of the water had knocked the wind out of him but he had managed to stay conscious. He could hear his brothers frantically searching for him but could not catch his breath, let alone respond.

The water was unbelievably cold. It seeped into his collar and seemed to almost burn his neck, wicking down inside his flight suit. He should have worn something a little more appropriate for a sea rescue but speed and agility had been the order of the day. Now he regretted that decision whole-heartedly.

"I see him! Virg, I see him!" Gordon cried frantically over the comm. and leaned carefully over the open cargo bay doors in the underbelly of Thunderbird 2. "John? John, can you hear me?"

John managed a weak mumble in reply.

"Can you get back on the platform?"

It was so cold that moving sent pain tearing through his limbs. Add to that the disorientation from his fall and John found himself slowly floundering in the water, unable to co-ordinate himself.

"Oh shit!" Alan suddenly shouted from his high vantage point in orbit somewhere above them. "Virg, you got multiple signals heading your way. They must have seen the explosion."

"Or they're coming to make sure it worked." Virgil suggested, "John? Now would be a good time, dude!"

"I'll go get him." Gordon stated firmly.

John had somehow managed to edge closer to the platform that rested on the surface of the sea and reached out for the railings. His vision was blurring, his head swimming with the effects of the plummet and the cold. He frowned in confusion as he then saw something heading towards him. And fast.

Gordon clenched his teeth as he slid down the cable towards the platform. His thick gloves burned against his hands and he closed his eyes as he gripped the metal cable between his feet and tried to slow his descent. He landed in the platform with a thud and took a second to steady himself before then scrambling over to the gap in the railings and leaning out to grab his brother.

"Gord?" Virgil called worriedly.

"I've got him!" Gordon replied hurriedly, groaning with the effort it took to heave John up onto the platform. "Let's move!" He closed the gate and crouched down behind John.

Gordon gripped the railings with one hand and held his brother tightly against him with his free arm, the wind tearing past them as the platform was dragged through the air behind the swiftly retreating green bulk of Thunderbird 2.

They made their escape as fast as they could, the platform slowly rising back up as the craft shot across the mainland, steering a wide course well away from the dangers of the Russia/Kazakhstan border.

oooo

"Is he okay?" Virgil called out as he hurried into the cargo hold. Now safely over the Pacific, he had engaged the autopilot and hurried back to ensure his brothers were secure.

Gordon waited for the cargo bay doors to lock firmly beneath him before he finally dared move. He then slid out from behind John and smiled as he saw the black box that his brother was somehow still desperately clinging to.

"Cold." John managed through clenched teeth.

"No shit!" Gordon laughed, relieved that his brother seemed unharmed. He pulled the helmet from John's head and frowned as he checked for any signs of head trauma.

Virgil opened the gate and clambered onto the platform to help Gordon lift John to his feet. John swayed weakly but managed to stumble between them and they hurried through to the relative warmth of the flight deck. He sank heavily into one of the wide chairs and moaned as his slowly warming body began to shudder.

Gordon carefully pulled the prized black box from John's tight grip and frowned in concern at the blood on his brother's suit.

"N-not … m-mine …" John shivered and managed a small smile.

Gordon nodded and reached up to undo John's suit. "We need to get these wet clothes off." He explained softly and turned to see Virgil hurrying off to fetch some blankets from the cargo hold.

"S-self … d-des-destruct."

"Figures." Gordon sighed. He stood and moved round John, gently but hastily pulling the flight suit and soaked undershirt from his trembling body. His eyes rested for a moment on the spider-web of recent scarring across John's back and he frowned in concern.

Gordon looked up as Virgil returned and met the same worry in his gentle face. They both remembered all too well the last time they had come to their older brother's aid amid the burning wreckage of a damaged Thunderbird 5 and they had hoped never to repeat the experience.

Virgil wrapped two thick blankets around John's shoulders and offered Gordon a smile of reassurance; this was nowhere near as bad as before.

"There." Gordon pulled the blankets close around John and wrapped his arms around his shaking form.

John leaned into him and murmured gently. "Th-th-thank you."

"No problem." Gordon smiled, "Say. That's a pretty good impression of Brains you got there."

"P-piss … off-ff!" John laughed.

Virgil chuckled in amusement and relief and sat himself back at the helm. "Thunderbird 2 to base."

"Go ahead."

Virgil flinched at their father's stern tone and glanced back at his brothers. "Um … we had some trouble but - "

"I know. Alan filled me in. Everyone okay?"

"We're fine." Virgil replied, turning back to watch John nodding shakily.

"Hurry back." Jeff urged.

"F.A.B." Virgil agreed and closed the connection. He looked down at the small black box that had been placed on the seat beside him and he frowned in concern. "What do we do with this?"

John tugged his blankets closer round his shaking shoulders and closed his eyes. "I sh-should b-be able to l-link it with th-the comm."

"Guys?"

Virgil spun back to the console before him and opened a channel. "Go ahead, Alan."

"Just thought I'd better give you a heads up. Dad's pretty pissed."

"Yeah," Gordon laughed softly, "We heard."

"But thanks for the warning, Sprout." Virgil smiled.

"Sure," Alan responded, "Oh. And I didn't tell him about the data-box-thingy."

Virgil and Gordon both turned to watch John in interest. He huddled further into his blankets and shook his head.

"Thanks, Alan." Virgil offered warily.

"No problem. 5 out."

"Why are we hiding this?" Virgil asked quickly and frowned in concern at his older brother.

John stood shakily and moved across to sit beside Virgil, picking up the box and examining it carefully. "It's US g-government property. He'll be angry th-that we took such a risk to st-steal it." He frowned as he turned the box over in his hands. "But th-there might be s-something important on here."

Virgil watched John clenching his jaw to try and stop his teeth from chattering and then looked down at his brother's trembling hands. "I hope so."

"Mmm." John agreed distractedly. "Just wish I kn-knew how to open it. Scott will, I guess."

"He's in enough trouble," Virgil reminded him softly, "And there's no time -we're only 12 minutes out from the island."

John looked up to frown at the bright sky over the pacific and suddenly just the sight of the cloudless blue made him feel a little warmer.

"Maybe Brains can take a look." Virgil shrugged.

John turned back to his brother and his frown returned as he considered the feasibility of this idea. Brains would no doubt be as curious as him in where any gadgetry was concerned but there was also the fact that he was often their father's confidante to consider. He looked down at the box and let out a broken, shivery sigh.

It then suddenly occurred to him that Gordon had been strangely quiet for a few minutes. John tore his eyes from the prize in his hands and turned to look back at his brother. "You okay?"

Gordon made no reply. He was carefully pulling one of his gloves from his hand and was leaning his face close to peer under the cuff.

"Gord?" John urged softly and stood to move towards the rear of the flight deck to stand beside him. "You okay?"

"Erm …" Gordon began quietly, flexing the fingers of his half-gloved hand carefully. "I think … um…"

"What?" John let go of his precious blankets, letting the sides swing open. He crouched down next to Gordon and followed his gaze down to his hand.

The thick green and white material was damp from where he had held onto a seemingly half-drowned brother and blackened with dirt. John's stomach then turned as he saw the blood that was also merged with the mess. He leaned closer and realised that the palm and fingers were actually torn slightly. He then remembered Gordon's rapid slide down the cable to the rescue platform and he understood what had happened.

Gordon slid the cuff further down his palm and caught his first glimpse of the damaged skin beneath. He sucked air in between his teeth and let go of the material in shock and revulsion, his flushed face paling rapidly.

"Oh dude …" John reached out timidly, taking hold of Gordon's wrist and angling his hand towards him.

"Ow!" Gordon protested involuntarily, snatching his hand back towards his chest and closing his eyes.

"What?" Virgil urged worriedly, "What's happened?"

John stood slowly and wrapped his arms around his brother's shoulders, letting out a gentle groan of sympathy. He could well understand that after the adrenaline and excitement of his rescue had now begun to fade, the pain of Gordon's burned hands was only now sinking in. "I'm so sorry." John offered quietly, "God, I'm so sorry."

"S'okay," Gordon husked quietly, "I just hope that fucking box was worth it."

John closed his eyes and rested his cheek against the top of his brother's head, hoping that Gordon's angry words were in response to pain and not directed at him. He could feel his brother leaning into him and hugged him tighter, his own discomfort suddenly of little importance.

_tbc ..._


	6. Chapter 6

They had made their swift way through to the infirmary almost before the gently rumbling engines of the immense craft had even shut down. John was aching from the impact with the water but finally feeling as though his core temperature had reached something close to normal, despite the cold of the damp suit that hung about his waist.

Gordon was very quiet. John climbed up beside him on the narrow bed, letting his blankets slip from his bare torso and slipping his arms around his brother. He could feel the tension in Gordon's shoulders but his little brother made no sound.

Onaha approached carefully and slowly turned Gordon's still gloved hands palm upwards, tutting in sympathy as she saw the damage. She pulled a chair closer and sat before him, timidly lifting the cuff of one of the gloves.

Gordon flinched as what remained of the palm of his right glove pulled at his burned skin and he shook his head in protest.

"Okay, okay." John soothed, "Don't look." He gently slid one hand up against the side of Gordon's face and turned his head away, urging his brother to hide his face into his neck.

Onaha waited a moment for Gordon to calm and then cautiously continued. She frowned in concern and slowly slid one blade of a heavy-duty pair of scissors inside the glove. Once cut away, the material was easy to peel off and she then set to working on his left hand. The palms and fingers of both his hands were grazed and burned and she began to wash the damaged skin with warm saline.

"Ow …" Gordon whimpered softly.

"I know," John whispered, nuzzling his face against Gordon's cheek and trying not to look at the reddened, tattered skin of his brother's hands.

"How's it look?"

John lifted his head and watched Brains hurrying into the infirmary.

"Not that bad now it's clean." Onaha replied with a slight smile of relief. "It's just superficial damage."

"Yeah … right …" Gordon husked.

"There's a harness and a win-win-win-special cable for rapid descent." Brains reminded him carefully.

"There wasn't time for that!" Gordon countered angrily, pushing away from John to sit up and glare at Brains. "I thought the gloves would be thick enough!"

Brains visibly recoiled at what he took as an accusation. "The glo-glo-material wasn't designed with long periods of friction in mind."

Gordon saw the hurt in the scientists' face and his shoulders sank. "God, I know … I'm sorry." He glanced at his raw palms and swallowed back the bile in his throat. "It's just … it kinda stings and - "

"It's okay." Brains smiled and nodded in understanding. He watched Gordon relax back against John and stepped a little closer, peering in interest at the damage. "And you?" He looked up at John and his smile faded a little.

"I'm fine. I just took a dip in the water." John shuddered at the memory and glanced down at the crumpled mess of wet uniform lying about his hips.

"It's supposed to be quite n-n-pleasant over there at the moment." Brains offered lightly.

John frowned up at him and then suddenly smiled at the kind man's gentle face. "Maybe it looks good from the weather satellite but, believe me, it's not quite bikini tropical."

Onaha glanced up at the pair of them and smiled in amusement. She grabbed a pot of burn ointment from the trolley beside her and took a large glob of the white cream. "You ought to get changed out of those clothes before you get a chill." She suggested distractedly, gently smearing the cream onto Gordon's hands.

John turned to Gordon and watched him nod in agreement. He seemed to have relaxed now and smiled in relief as the cooling, anaesthetising effect of the ointment began to seep into his skin.

"Okay." John sighed and slid down from the bed, glancing back at his brother in concern as he wandered from the infirmary.

oooo

A soothing warmth hung in the air as John stepped outside and headed towards the pool. The high mid-afternoon sun tingled on his freshly showered skin and he sighed in contentment as he sank into one of the sun loungers.

"Hey."

John blinked his eyes open and shielded them with his hand as he peered down past the pool.

Scott smiled a thin greeting and continued his ascent from the lower pool.

"Hey." John replied carefully, unsure what sort of mood his recently chastised brother might be in.

"We followed the rescue." Scott continued, ambling towards John swiftly. "You okay?"

John nodded.

"Virgil's in with Dad."

John glanced back towards the house and frowned in concern, suddenly worried what his brother might spill under the scrutiny of their father's debrief.

Scott sat down on the patio beside John and sighed heavily, a waft of cigarette odour following his movement.

John watched him in interest, noting the tightness of Scott's shoulders and the trouble that knotted his forehead. He was eager to know what had transpired between him and their father during the mission but somehow it seemed obvious.

"Dad called it in."

John frowned slightly.

Scott took a deep breath and shook his head slowly. "He contacted an old friend in the Pentagon and told him our concern." He looked up at John and groaned softly. "God, John. They were there because of us."

John swallowed back the sudden lump in his throat and tried to shove the image of the dead pilots back into the deepest recess of his mind.

"They were shot down because I wouldn't back off." Scott sighed, "Because I wouldn't listen. I didn't stop and think, I just - "

"I got the data recorder."

"What?" Scott gasped.

John swung his legs over the side of his chair and his frown grew. "Maybe there'll be something of use on it."

Scott paused for a moment, leaning back to let his quickly standing brother pass. Perhaps they ought to listen to their father and let it go.

"Coming?" John urged.

Scott groaned and followed John into the house.

oooo

The sensors in Thunderbird 2 and the security cameras in the silo would have made locating them simple. Still, they jumped in surprise as he called out to them from somewhere below the flight deck.

Scott froze, ceasing his struggle with the almost penetrated casing of the box in his strong grip.

"Shit!" John hissed.

The cargo ramp hung open beneath them, allowing access to the equipment inside and the maintenance that Brains had begun a short while before. It was also how they had entered the craft and now they could hear their father's footsteps on the metal grating.

"I've been looking _everywhere_ for you two!" Jeff chuckled in greeting and stepped onto the flight deck. "What are you - ?" His eyes fell on the object in Scott's grasp and he groaned in dismay.

"Dad …" John began carefully.

"Is this what it was all about?" Jeff demanded in annoyance, "Is this what you risked your life to get?"

"I … yeah …" John nodded slowly.

"Why?" Jeff sighed, "God, John. I thought I could trust you of _all_ people to be sensible!"

John was aware of his brother flinching slightly at what was obviously a reference to the differences he had argued out with his father. He paused in uncertainty and shrugged his shoulders.

"Why won't the pair of you listen to me?" Jeff urged and stepped closer to them, his anger fading into anxiety. "This is a dangerous situation, boys. I didn't ground Thunderbird 1 because I wanted to punish Scott. I had no choice. These people – whoever they are – pose a very real threat."

John nodded in agreement, recalling the exploding jet and imagining for a moment what might have happened if they had done as Brains had suggested and hoisted the plane closer to Thunderbird 2.

"Maybe they can confirm what we saw." Scott offered suddenly, quietly. He looked down at the box in his hands and shrugged slightly. "Or maybe they can give us more of a clue as to who is out there."

"It's not our concern." Jeff insisted.

"They shot at me!" Scott shouted angrily, "I want to know who the hell they are!"

John watched the frustration that crossed his father's face and could well imagine that the pair of them had already had this discussion.

"It's a military issue." Jeff replied evenly, "I just got off the phone from Penny. The volunteers and UN are pulling out of the area. It's up to the army to sort this now."

Scott nodded slowly, his shoulders sinking as he relented.

John watched his brother giving in and shook his head in dispute. "They'll take us out of the loop." He stated worriedly, "I agree with Scott, Dad. We need to know who these people are."

Jeff sank into one of the wide chairs and threw his hands into the air in exasperation. "Fine. Whatever. _God_ … what did I _ever_ do to deserve this …!"

Scott took that as permission and continued his attempts to break the seal of the data recorder.

oooo

They were broadcasting a mayday the whole time they were in the area. John adjusted the connection with the comm. to get a clearer audio output and felt a chill run through him. It seemed like only yesterday that he had desperately shouted the same call for help to his family.

Jeff leaned forward in interest, listening to the pilot announcing his engine failure and equipment malfunction.

"What could have caused this?" Scott asked quietly.

"Poor maintenance." Jeff offered.

"Or deliberate." Scott countered.

John spun round to look between the two of them. "You think?"

"I don't know," Jeff sighed, "I really don't know anymore."

John watched his father as he sank his head into his hands and groaned softly. He then felt his heart slam into his chest as the transmissions replaying over the comm. suddenly changed.

"What's that?" Scott urged, "Interference?"

"No." John managed, his head swimming. "Oh god ... it's Navajo code."

_tbc ..._


	7. Chapter 7

At first there was nothing. Then there gradually arose the odd sense that something was very wrong but he could not recall why. Then there was the pain that hung in the back of his mind like a dark cloud. Instinctively he reached his hand towards his head, as if to check it was actually there, but the cuffs about his wrist yanked his arm back down.

Lifting his head caused the world to spin around him and he choked on the sudden bile collecting in his throat. He tried to open his eyes and found that he couldn't. And the tightness around his head suddenly made sense.

Oh god. Oh god. What the hell was going on?

Panic erupted inside him. His heart slammed against his chest and tears welled behind his tightly closed eyes.

It lasted all of a minute. The years of training at last kicked in and he forced his rapid breathing to calm.

Position, he chided himself. First establish your position.

Sitting. He was sitting down. On a chair. He reached down between his legs and stroked his fingers along the seat. Wood. Good. That could be to his advantage. Moving his limbs, he found that his legs were free but a chain tethered his cuffed hands to the floor.

He could stand. His legs were weak at first but adrenaline soon steadied him and he stepped cautiously forward. His boots scuffed against a solid floor and he then knelt down. Reaching tentatively towards his face he felt the tape across his eyes and clenched his teeth as he found a loose corner and pulled.

The skin across his face was suddenly on fire. It hurt to open his eyes but he forced them to regardless, blinking as he tried to gain focus. The room was bright but slowly he was able to take it in. It was large, about 20 by 18. Shuttered windows high up on two of the walls. A single metal door breaking the length of the wall beside him. Unpainted breezeblocks. Plastered ceiling. Concrete floor.

Turning back to the chair, he saw that it was freestanding. Good. A useful weapon. The large metal ring buried into the floor that tethered him centrally in the room was not so good.

Voices. Beyond the door. Nearing. He scrambled back onto the chair and re-covered his eyes. The sound of a metal bolt sliding open rang through the room and he hung his head, a plan already forming.

The door opened. He waited, timing his move to their approximate approach, his mind calm and clear. He needed them close, needed them almost –

"Well?"

They had stopped in the doorway. Their footsteps betrayed their number. Three. It was doable.

"Is he one of them?"

The deep voice was unfamiliar, laced with an accent he knew but could not place.

"Answer me!"

The thud of fist impacting with flesh. A groan of pain and the collision of weakened knees with the floor.

"Yes." Came the cracked, quiet reply.

"What? Speak up!"

"I said yes!" A sudden, defiant shout. "Yes, he is one of _them_!"

Oh god, he knew that voice. The precisely formed English, the tone, the hatred in that last word. Oh god. He was fucked.

* * *

_Ten hours earlier._

To an outsider the illusion would be infallible. Her hair was perfectly pulled back into a graceful twist, not a single strand out of place. Her smart suit hugged close to square set shoulders, her chin high and confident and a smile of greeting swept across perfectly painted lips as she ascended the steps towards the house in long, self-assured strides.

"Hey, Pen." Virgil climbed from the pool; the exaggerated rise and fall of his chest the only clue as to just how many laps his lithe body had completed.

Penny flicked him a wave and continued towards the house, Parker close behind her as always. She glided past Gordon sleeping soundly beside the upper pool and stepped into the house.

Kyrano and Onaha received a warm salutation and nodded a reply as they watched her move through the lounge.

"Pen?"

Penny stopped at the base of the stairs that led up towards the office and turned towards him. "John, darling."

"What are you doing here?"

"Well, what sort of a welcome is that?" Penny chuckled softly.

John's concern remained on his face as he neared her. "I thought you were in France."

"I was." Penny nodded, her smile unwavering. "I needed to speak with your father."

John stepped closer, his frown deepening as he searched her face. She could have called. She didn't need to travel all this way for a conversation. She had come a long way off course –

It was subtle. It was only for him. She didn't want the Belegants to notice. She didn't want to concern Virgil who had now headed inside for a drink. She wanted to avoid any potential confusion between her and Scott who was now descending the stairs towards them.

John saw the slight shake of her head and his heart sank. He watched her turn her attention to his approaching brother and her smile had not faltered for a second. It was bad.

"Hi, Pen." Scott greeted merrily, "Dad's in his office."

"Thank you, darling."

"Good to see you. Come and have a drink when you're done. Okay?"

"Absolutely."

Scott took a sideways step past her and gave Parker a jovial salute. He then saw the concern on his brother's face and his smile faded. "Step into my office, dude." He mumbled carefully before clearing his throat and then raising his voice for the benefit of everyone else in the vicinity. "Hey, bro', I need to give you back that book I borrowed."

John allowed himself to be led through to the bedrooms at the back of the complex, glancing behind him to check that no one was bothered as he disappeared after his brother.

Scott closed the door to his room and sighed loudly. "Something's seriously wrong, dude."

John nodded in quiet agreement.

"I mean, Dad gets this call from his buddy over in the Pentagon last night and hasn't said anything about it. He was up way early this morning and hasn't emerged from his office. And now Penny …"

John considered his brother's words for a moment. "What did he want you for?"

"Huh?"

"Dad." John prompted, "He called you up there."

"Nothing." Scott shrugged, "It was weird. He just chatted about nothing. That's what I'm saying – he's acting real strange. He called me up from the lab to say nothing. Something's totally up. You think - "

"The lab?" John frowned.

"Yeah. Brains and I were - " Scott gasped suddenly and span round to yank the door open. "Oh shit no!"

John somehow managed to keep up with his brother as he sped down to the lab deep in the complex. He had, unsurprisingly, chosen astrophysics over track and field and it would normally have shown were it not for the adrenaline flooding through him.

"Brains!" Scott shouted frantically. "Brains, don't - " He skidded to a halt beside the work station and his shoulders sank. "Oh no …" He groaned breathlessly.

John joined them at the bench and watched Brains shrug an apology. He looked down at the remains of the supposedly indestructible black box and shook his head in confusion.

"You're d-d-d-father thought it best."

"And the decrypted files?" John urged.

Brains shook his head slowly.

"But we nearly had them!" John exclaimed.

Scott shook his head and frowned angrily. "I don't get it! What's he hiding?" He turned to head back towards the house and felt a hand gently pulling back on his shoulder.

"Please." Brains pleaded softly, "It's for your own protection."

"What?" John asked carefully. "What is?" He searched the man's sad face and found no answers. His gaze then moved to the clutter on the bench and he saw the discs that were scattered beside the ruined box. It was everything. All that they had gathered. Gone.

"You'll understand after it's done." Brains offered quietly.

"What?" Scott and John asked in unison.

Brains shook his head slowly. "It's better that you don't know."

oooo

John was sure that he could hear them shouting, even at this distance. Scott had stubbornly refused to hear reason and had decided upon the direct approach. He would get nothing. Only yelling.

John's plan, on the other hand, had promise.

He watched them descend the steps down through the jungle and towards the runway, both of them in quiet solemnity as they made their way back to the waiting car. His heart was racing as he waited for the right time. Parker was fast. He would have to be faster.

Penny gasped in surprise as suddenly he was there. She touched her hand to her chest and giggled in relief.

"Master Tracy!" Parker exclaimed, his voice wavering with a hint of fright and a little more than a touch of dismay at having been successfully ambushed.

"What were you doing hiding in the bushes?" Penny asked, a frown and a smile somehow both occupying her soft face.

"What is it, Pen?" John demanded coolly. "What was so important that it couldn't be said over the comm.?"

"I – I don't …" Penny sighed and then laughed in amusement. "John, dear. You are being paranoid. I only wanted to see your father. We were in the area

and - "

"Europe is a little further than 'in the area'." John countered calmly. "I can link up to Five from any terminal in the house. And I know how to break into your car."

"Now, wait just a minute!" Parker began angrily.

"I see Brains has made some improvements." John continued, seeing the dismay on Penny's face and the outrage on Parker's and knowing he was winning.

"She needed a tune up." Penny offered evenly.

"Bullshit."

"Now, you are way out of line, young man!" Parker fumed and stepped forward, gasping in shock and pain as something struck him in the thigh.

"What the hell?" Penny cried out in alarm as she watched Parker crumple to the ground. She looked back at John, her horror now showing clearly through her professional mask.

"Only a harmless sedative." John explained quietly, holding up the syringe that he had thus far kept concealed in his palm. "Which is more than I can say for what FAB 1 now has packed under her bonnet."

"John, please." Penny held up her hands in a gesture of calm and there again was that confident smile. "Let me explain."

"Please do." John nodded, a smile crossing his lips for the briefest of moments before then dissolving into sorrow. "Tell me what it is that my father is suddenly prepared to kill for."

_tbc ..._


	8. Chapter 8

It was impossible to gauge the passage of time in this place. For all he knew he could have been held captive here for just a few minutes. Or it could be days. Although hethought that after a few days of sitting here on this chair he might be considerably more uncomfortable.

But perhaps they came in and sedated him. Moved him somewhere else to sleep. No. He would know. They had only been in once. With him. His identifier. The man who had all but signed his death warrant. The man who had already tried to kill him once. And had almost succeeded.

Why was he here? And why was he also apparently a prisoner? And who was it that was so bad that even _he_ was scared?

Footsteps. Single. The lock pulling back. A draft of air from outside the room bringing with it the smell of pine forest, diesel, perfume. Strange combination.

Whoever it was that had entered, they neared him slowly, almost cautiously. This was not one of the men from his previous encounter.

A pause. The movement of air near his face. Something small and somewhat sharp catching on his bottom lip. He gasped and shook his head away from whatever it was.

"No! Shh! Okay. It is okay. It is water. Please."

He relaxed in the chair and turned back towards her whisper. A straw. Guided more accurately this time. The water was cool and soothed his parched throat. It settled easily in his stomach and that gave him some clue. Any longer a gap since his last drink and he would have cramps from the sudden rush of fluid.

He drained the container and sighed slightly. "Thank you." He offered quietly.

"Now. I must check you." She continued in her hushed, broken English.

"Check me?"

"Yes. Please. No struggle this time."

This time? The tape over his eyes pulled at his skin as he frowned in confusion. When had he struggled before? When had she come in before? Why did he need check –

"Ouch!" He hissed suddenly, trying to respect her plea for quiet but also shocked by the sudden throbbing pain in his shoulder. And now his arm ached. His fingers tingled as if waking from numbed sleep. And suddenly he remembered. Remembered the impact. Remembered stumbling. Remembered clutching his shoulder. There had been no blood. Only a small dart.

And now he remembered more. All of it. Cursing at them to run. Run away. He would create a diversion, provide cover fire, be their escape. It made sense. He had been trained for this.

"You are strong."

Gentle fingers opening his shirt and stroking over his skin brought him rapidly back to the present. She was checking methodically. His face, his neck, his torso, his arms. Checking for bruising, breakages, damaged skin.

"Most men asleep for days."

"How long has it been?" He asked quickly.

A long pause. A gentle intake of breath. A decision.

"Please."

"Four hours."

He nodded thoughtfully and decided to chance an appeal to her sympathetic tone. "Where am I?"

No reply. And she had moved back from him.

"Is this the warehouse? Am I in the base on the border? Is this Kazakhstan? Russia? Please!"

"Shh!" She covered his lips with her fingers and whimpered in fear. "I am only to bring water. Check you."

He sighed and nodded in surrender. Other voices then filtered down from somewhere outside the room. Clearer this time. His heart suddenly began to race. The door was open.

This was his chance. She was his escape. He could use her as a hostage. He could easily break her neck. They would have to let him go.

But was she that vital to them? Would it be a waste of effort? Might he harm her for no good reason? Might he lose the trust he was sure he could build with her?

And then the moment was gone. She backed away and more footfalls signified the return of his host. Or two of them at least.

"Scott Tracy."

He froze, while trying not to appear frozen.

"Of course. American bravado. But this is your name. I know this as fact."

The voice and footsteps neared together. The tape over his eyes, although freed once before, seemed to pull his face from his skull. He clenched his teeth and refused to cry out.

"Hey!" The man slapped his cheek gently and laughed in amusement. "What? You too scared to look at me? Huh? Scott Tracy. Big American hero, no?"

Scott blinked his eyes open and the bright room was blurry for a moment. Then a surprisingly average, somewhat friendly face came into view.

"There you are!" The man chuckled softly. "Hello."

Scott watched the man smiling down at him and could only stare back warily.

"Well? You not say hello?"

"What?" Scott husked.

"Hello!" The man shouted suddenly, his smile fading in an instant.

He moved so fast and the pain was so sudden that Scott had not even time enough to realise what was happening. He caught his sob in his throat and closed his eyes as whatever the hell it was sent waves of agony through his shoulder.

It was over as quick as it had begun but to Scott it had seemed endless. He sank back against the chair and could feel tears gathering.

"Well?" The man demanded after a moment.

"Hello." Scott managed through clenched teeth.

"Hello? Hello … what?"

"Hello, _sir_!"

"Ha! This is more like it. We understand each other, no? You tell me what I want to hear and I not hurt you."

Scott opened his eyes and saw the man step back from him; his arms behind his back and a smug smile filling his middle-aged face. Behind him was the man's companion, watching the scene with amusement. They were in camouflage combats, an unknown insignia embroidered on their chest and shoulder. He looked between the two men and then caught her in the periphery of his vision, her head down, and her bobbed blonde hair hanging over her face.

"So. Next question, Scott Tracy." The man turned and fiddled with whatever it was he held in his hand. "Who knows about this place?"

Scott swallowed hard.

"Hm? How many Thunderbirds people are there? Who have you told?"

Scott watched the man turn back to face him and shook his head in reply.

"No?" The man urged.

"No." Scott confirmed.

Without a word the man leapt at him and this time Scott caught a glimpse of the small black device before it was slapped against his bare chest. And this time it hurt more. He bit his lip against the agony. Bit it so hard he was sure he felt his teeth sink into his own skin. It was a welcome distraction to the pain and he tried to imagine which of his many conquests he would call upon first to come and kiss it better.

The man pulled back with a groan of anger and looked down at the device in his hand as if wondering if it was actually working. "Fine." He sighed in dismay. "Stubborn American."

Scott looked down at his chest and saw the lack of evidence on his tanned skin. Whatever that thing was, it was designed to leave no trace and he wondered what kind of sick puppy would invent such a –

"I will go back to the other boy." The man announced merrily and waved a farewell as he headed towards the open door. "It is more fun."

"What?" Scott breathed. He frowned in confusion and fear as he watched the two men leaving quickly. "What?" He asked louder and turned towards the woman who was following them. "What does he mean?"

She shook her head and quickened her exit.

"Wait! Please! What does he mean? Who else is here?" Scott yelled frantically, standing and straining against his chains.

The answer came a few moments later. A shout. A cry. A plead for them to stop.

Scott sank back onto the chair and his head swam dizzily. He then heard the voice cry out again and he closed his eyes, letting the tears fall.

No. It couldn't be. They had escaped. He had seen them get clear. He had been their diversion.

Hadn't he?

"Oh god no." Scott whimpered in sorrow. "Please, no."

The cries of pain didn't last long. Either unconsciousness or mercy had ceased the torture. Either way, a blessed quiet fell outside the room and Scott had then heard the footsteps returning.

The door was unbolted and opened quickly. In flew the man. Angry and all signs of his previous sick joviality gone.

Scott tensed against the chair and prepared himself for the next onslaught.

"I know this works." The man growled in fury and held up his hand as he approached, shoving the small device clearly into Scott's view. "And I will keep proving that on your friend in there until you tell me what I want to know!"

Scott watched the anger sparkling in the man's dark eyes and nodded slowly. "No one."

"What?"

"I told no one."

The man frowned sceptically.

"I was flying outside the sanctioned zone." Scott explained calmly. "If I had told anyone about this place then I would have been in a whole heap of shit. From my superiors, the military and the World Government." He shrugged in what he hoped appeared as embarrassment.

"Really." The man scoffed and turned to his companion, speaking quickly in what Scott assumed was local dialect. This was one area where John would have a distinct advantage. Scott suddenly felt nauseous at the thought. The screams from a few moments ago replaying in his mind. It didn't sound like his brother. Not that he had ever really heard what his brother sounded like when he was in that much pain. He could only hope that it was some other poor soul being held captive. Maybe the one they had brought in before. But then he was again left with the confusion as to why _he_ was being held here.

"Okay."

Scott returned his attention back to his captors. They were both nodding in agreement and regarding him in what he assumed was suspicion.

The leader of the two walked over to him once again, his nodding continuing. "Say that what you claim is true. Why come here?"

"To find out who was shooting at me." Scott replied honestly.

The man smiled in amusement. "Then you are either very brave or very stupid. Being American, I would think the last one is the truth."

Scott shrugged a reply.

"And your friend?"

Which one? Scott thought to himself. If any. Or did they mean the other captive? Was he claiming to be his friend?

The man seemed to read Scott's thoughts. "The other American who knows our language."

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

"He is Thunderbird also?"

"No." Scott replied calmly, anger bubbling throughout his entire being. "He is just my guide. My interpreter."

"Only two of you?"

"Yes." Scott nodded. So Penny had obviously got clear. Thank fuck.

The man nodded and considered these replies for a moment. "I will ask your friend. See if he says same answer."

Scott held the man's gaze evenly, confidently. They had discussed this. If they got caught, this was their story. John spoke the local lingo. They would believe him.

They had to.

_tbc ..._


	9. Chapter 9

There was nothing. No noise from beyond the door for what seemed an age.

Scott hung his head and closed his eyes. There was no way that their father would risk any more of his family to mount a rescue. Penny would no doubt plead with him, beg him. But Scott and John had known what they were doing when they set out on this.

Maybe Penny would find another way. Maybe one of her military contacts. Or perhaps some James Bond type was going to blast his way in to save them at any moment. Hell, maybe even Parker had a few more cards up his sleeve. But he was probably way too pissed to help them, when he eventually woke up from the drugs John had stuck him with.

Oh god. They had defied Dad. Disabled the launch silos. Stolen FAB 1. Practically kidnapped Penny. Well, with her complete agreement anyway.

And for what?

* * *

_Eleven hours earlier._

John sank to the tarmac of the runway, his legs crossed beneath him, his head hung in sorrow.

Penny crouched down before him and sighed heavily. "Now do you see why we didn't want you to know?"

John was quiet. Too quiet.

Penny reached out carefully and placed a hand on his shoulder, gasping as she was shrugged roughly away.

"What's going on?"

Penny turned and saw Scott jogging towards them. His stride faltered as he passed the crumpled form of Parker and he then increased velocity as he saw his brother sitting beneath the shadow of the nearest replica palm.

"John? Pen? What the hell happened? I got nothing from Dad." He smiled thinly, "But I think he reached a whole new level of pissed off."

Penny watched him slow as he approached and he sank to his knees beside his brother.

"Dude?" Scott urged worriedly. "I don't think our subterfuge is working well. Virg and Gord know something is up. Hell, I think most of the Western Seaboard have heard that something is up!"

John was silent.

Scott turned to Penny and shrugged in confusion. "Do you know what this is all about?"

"Yes."

John suddenly lifted his head, his eyes brimming with tears. "Tell him."

Penny sighed and adjusted her position to sit with them on the edge of the runway. "The 'investment' you heard spoke of in the transmissions is a weapon."

"Huh?" Scott frowned.

"I gave all that we had gathered from the flight recorder to one of my contacts. A more trusted one. Not like that other double-crossing so and so." She sighed and then began anew. "It seems our friends in the military knew that there was more to the border uprising than a civil dispute. They were observing the area closely. Your happening on the complex complicated things a little."

"Oh." Scott groaned.

"But, at the same time, you made them make a move. Proof of a threat and all that. The USAF were happy to comply with your father's request and check it out. But that plane was then prey to the weapon."

"And the coded transmissions on the flight recorder?"

"A message. One of the pilots was not all he seemed."

John sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. "I don't think he was supposed to transmit in Navajo. The reply from the source seemed angry. I think that was why they were killed."

"No interrogation." Scott agreed.

"And we're guessing the plane was set to explode a little closer to Thunderbird 2." Penny continued. "As a warning."

Scott nodded. "So what is this weapon?"

"Best as we can guess, it's some kind of EM focused beam. It can pinpoint a target and disable it without affecting local equipment."

"Sounds groovy." Scott groaned.

"It could be catastrophic." John urged, "They could, in theory, point this thing at anything. Planes. Ships. Cities. Satellites."

"Oh god." Scott's frown grew. "Do we have any good news?"

Penny nodded. "Brains has isolated the VHF sources."

"What?" Scott gasped, "You mean - "

"We know where they are. Every cell. Every part of this unknown group."

Scott laughed suddenly. "That's great!" He turned to his brother and saw the sorrow in John's eyes. "Isn't it?"

John turned to Penny and shrugged his shoulders. "Tell him the rest."

"We … I mean the military and the World Government have decided … well …"

"They're stooping to their level." John continued for her. "They want a systematic wiping out of every cell."

"But …" Scott frowned again. "What happened to capture and question?"

"They have decided it's not worth the risk." Penny replied.

Scott looked from her forlorn face to the even paler face of his sorrowful brother. "But … that's wrong …"

"And they want us to help." John added quietly.

"What? No!" Scott gasped.

John nodded slowly, his blue eyes tired and wet with tears. "There's a cell on the West Coast. FAB1 has been upgraded."

"You're shitting me!"

"I wish I was." John sighed. "There's just enough yield for precise and effective targeting."

Scott was speechless. He sank back onto his heels and stared in horror and confusion at the seemingly innocent pinkness of the elegant saloon.

"She's well suited for the only Western target because of her shielding and manoeuvrability." John continued, "It's thought that this group will be on the look out for Thunderbird 1."

"But …" Scott husked, "Surely … I mean … what happened to investigating these people … seeing where they get their Intel and supplies from and all that?"

"This is a decisive move to send out a clear message to any other groups." Penny answered.

"Oh, don't tell me you agree!"

"It's gone beyond what any of us think or feel."

"Bullshit!" Scott scoffed.

"That's what I said." John smiled thinly.

Penny watched them both for a moment and a frown creased the perfect skin above her perfect eyebrows. "So give me an alternative."

* * *

So this was it. The alternative. They would scope the place. Go to the source. Find out who was here. Get the Intel that the corrupt agents had refused to get. Find out why a great many powerful people were so eager to simply torch the place. What did they have to hide?

They had taken only conventional transport so as to avoid attracting attention and had very little time to try and find some answers before the whole site became nothing more than a crater.

They had left a message for their father, pinned to the unconscious Parker's carefully stowed form in the Thunderbird 2 silo. He had to try and stall the operation. Give them time. And not come after them.

It was dusk when they had arrived at the place. After a hellish journey getting to it. Tired and hungry they had settled down to watch the place and wait for morning. A patrol just after midnight had ruined their plans.

Scott lifted his head and looked around at the bare room. There must be some way out of here. Some way to check if Penny had got out okay. Was she getting help? Or was she simply being held clear while operation-wipe-the-scumbags-off-the-face-of-the-Earth went ahead? Were he and his brother really that expendable?

Voices again. And another rumble from deep inside him. Maybe they were bringing breakfast.

The door opened and Scott forgot his hunger. Anger was all that filled his mind. He watched as the two captors dragged their prize closer to him.

"Your friend thinks you are lying." The lead man smiled smugly.

Scott looked down at the crumpled form at his feet and his limbs ached as adrenaline surged through him. They should release him. They should undo his chains. Then they would see what he really thought of the man they claimed was his friend.

_We can help each other, Scott._

Scott closed his eyes as a familiar dull ache filled his thoughts and the voice that often starred in his nightmares was loud in his mind. He shook his head and glared at the captive before him.

_Together, we can get out of here._

Scott closed his eyes tighter and tried to somehow will the voice from his thoughts.

"He is in your head. No?"

Scott opened his eyes and looked up at his captors. The lead man was grinning happily and reached up to stroke back his fringe and reveal a small black device nestled in the hairline beside his temple.

"Not in here. No. With us he has no control."

Scott looked down at the gaunt, distraught face of the man that had once been all that stood between his family and the great black nothing of space. And he saw fear. It brought a smile to his face.

_Please, Scott._

Scott watched the dismay that crossed The Hood's face and his smile grew. This was no longer The Hood. The man that had almost killed them and destroyed the Thunderbirds was not here. The maniac that had forced him to shoot down a police helicopter and almost murder his own father was long gone. He was naked. Bare. Castrated. And Scott laughed.

_If we work together. Please, Scott. I beg you!_

Scott concentrated hard on the sad face before him and somehow 'thought' a reply. It was a weird sensation.

_Fuck you._

It brought a satisfying sense of pleasure as he saw the hurt that flashed across Trangh Belagants pallid face.

"Ah. You are pleased to see your friend. No?"

Scott looked up at the lead captor and his smile faded. "No. He's not - "

_They don't know he's your brother._

Scott returned his gaze to Trangh and held his breath.

_They actually believe the story the two of you came up with. It might not always be that way._

_Don't you dare! You so much as mention him and I swear to god, I'll –_

_You'll what? _Trangh got up onto his knees and a smile pulled briefly at his mouth. _You're tied up in here. What could you possibly do to me? I, on the other hand, could make your brother's stay a great deal more interesting._

Scott shuddered as a sudden image of his brother convulsing in agony was forced into his mind. He held his breath and closed his eyes.

"He is not your friend?" The lead man frowned in confusion. "But you know him. No? He says you helped him. Says you were 'inside man'. That you don't like being Thunderbird."

"Yeah." Scott replied quickly. "God, yeah. I was trying to protect him. I … yeah … he's a good friend."

"And he says you lie."

Scott nodded sadly and took a deep, shaky breath. "Yeah. I lied."

"Oh." The lead man took his beloved torture device from his pocket and slid it onto his fingers. "So … you tell the truth now?"

Scott could feel his heart thudding in his chest. He was suddenly so confused. Was John really here? Was it actually The Hood – no, Trangh – who was crying out? Was this him? Was this all an elaborate scheme? His brain ached with so many questions. Or was that Trangh's doing?

"Well?" The lead captor urged impatiently, leaning down to hold his hand closer to Trangh.

_I wonder how much of this thing your brother can take?_

"Okay!" Scott shouted suddenly. "Okay! God. Yes. I'll tell you the truth."

_tbc ..._


	10. Chapter 10

**_A/N: I guess it's about time to disclaim again that I did not create and do not own the Thunderbirds characters or references herein and do acknowledge their creators prior to continuing to put them in further jeopardy._**

**_Thank you for your reviews. Your kind words are appreciated and your thoughts absorbed. Glad to have you along for the ride._**

**_A little reminder of the rating before I continue. There are adult themes and references in the following chapters, all of which are necessary in terms of realism and because it's simply more fun._**

**_Lastly, it's really hard to convey on here when a character is (speaking in another language) ... hope it makes sense.

* * *

_**

The rain hammered against the glass and trickled down the window in glittering patterns, silhouetted by the occasional flicker of lightning. It seemed an age since he had last felt rain. A sudden urge to run outside and get completely soaked in it suddenly welled within, soon quashed by the heavy tiredness of his body.

John remained there, transfixed on his side, watching the display in silence, listening to the gentle rumbling from somewhere above. It was therapeutic. There was a rhythm to the rainfall. A pattern. Everything had a pattern.

"You okay?"

He smiled as he heard the half-awake crack in her soft voice. "Yeah."

Gentle fingers began to glide through his hair, lingering on the wisps that curled around the nape of his neck.

"Can't you sleep?"

John rolled over onto his back and saw her in the bright pulses that scattered shadows across the room. He watched her watching him through heavy eyes and smiled, as she seemed to drift back into slumber.

"What's wrong?" She continued, suddenly awake and frowning in concern.

"Nothing." He smiled as a louder clap of thunder shuddered through the air. "It's just a bit too quiet around here."

She laughed softly. "You call _that_ quiet!"

"Compared to what I'm used to." John nodded and reached out to stroke his fingers across her bare shoulder and down her arm, there they found her fingers and were quickly entwined. "The station is always alive with noise; the thrusters, the comm. channels, the gravity plating, the air recyclers …" He closed his eyes for a moment and smiled at the memory of his distant home from home. "And then when I'm planet side, there's the chaos of my family."

She smiled at the image and then mumbled softly. "Hmm … 'planet side' … that's so cool!"

John's smile grew. "What …?"

"You live in space!" She enthused merrily, rising further from her slumber. "Class in a glass."

John laughed suddenly, amused at her oddness. They were a good match, all in all.

"I thought it was meant to be silent up there, though." She continued after a moment. "I mean, what about all that 'no one can hear you scream' shit?"

"That's just a movie, you fool!" John chuckled and slowly shook his head. "And besides, I think they meant outside. Not inside the safety of a pressurised station or a ship."

"Okay, genius. Don't squash the little people on your way to fame and glory."

John laughed merrily. He watched her fondly gazing across the pillows at him and his smile slowly faded. "God, I love you, Alex."

She smiled a reply and nodded in agreement.

John freed his fingers from her grasp and slid his hand back up her arm and onto her side, travelling down to where the duvet covered her hips.

"What exactly are you up to?" Alex queried in amusement.

John slid his hand beneath the covers and shrugged a reply. "Just testing out a theory."

"Oh?" Alex grinned mischievously, "Is that all I am to you? Just another experiment?"

"Yup. A very important one."

Alex rolled over onto her back and snuggled closer to him. "And just what is this theory about?"

"Oh, that's top secret." John moved closer to her and leaned down to place a gentle kiss on her lips, lingering for a moment to taste the familiar warmth of her mouth.

"I guess a lot of research is involved."

"Yup."

Alex closed her eyes as his lips moved across her face, kissing every inch of her features. "And … just who will be funding this?"

John leaned back from her and shrugged slightly. "You will, of course."

"Oh yeah? And what makes you so sure?"

"You know how good I am at my work." John grinned and kissed her mouth once again, feeling her respond and lean closer into him.

Alex moaned softly and arched her back as he pushed aside the remainder of the bedclothes. "And what sort of perks will I get for backing you in this venture?"

"100 percent of the net profit." John answered softly, smiling in delight as she reacted favourably to his touch.

Alex reached up and sank her fingers into his hair, pulling his head back down to meet hers and sighing softly across his mouth. Her other hand began to stroke across his shoulders and down his back, his skin tingling at her gentle touch.

It was all so right. It was so easy to be with her. To open himself to her and lay all of his cares safely in her embrace. They were in another world, another realm. A secret sanctuary amid the walls of her two-bedroom cottage somewhere south of the capital. And it was wonderful.

It also scared him. It scared him to think that there existed a soul so precious that he would give up everything for. And it scared him that the closer he got to her; the more he had to lose.

"Just what exactly does 'net profit' mean?" Alex asked suddenly, grinning cheekily up at him. "And I bet there's some serious small print that you've skipped over."

"Alex …" John moved on top of her and pressed his lips against hers with a slight groan. "Shut up." He murmured into her mouth and felt her body shudder with laughter and anticipation.

The storm continued long after all that they had shared had faded into blissful, entwined slumber. At first, he didn't know what had woken him. The thunder had moved on and the rain continued it's gentle melody against the window.

His body was heavy and numb. He sighed in contentment and was then again aware of gentle fingers stroking through his hair. He turned to look at her and the blissful memory of her was suddenly ripped away from him, leaving him exposed to only the harsh reality of consciousness. And pain.

John clutched at his side, fully expecting to find a real white-hot poker boring a hole into his chest. Gentle hands pulled his fingers away and held him still.

"Shh." Came a soft whisper. "(Please. Do not move. I think your ribs are broken.)"

It wasn't Alex. All recollection of her calming presence had swiftly abandoned him. She was gone. It wasn't her. She doesn't speak Khazakh.

John forced himself to lie back against the cold floor and tried to relax. It wasn't easy. Even the slightest breath brought mind-numbing pain tearing through his right side.

"(Please. Lie still.)"

He chanced opening his eyes and blinked in the sudden brightness of the room. Looking around he found her, kneeling beside him and watching him in concern. "Mishka?"

"(Yes.)" A small smile pulled at her thin mouth.

"(What happened?)"

"(You struggled. You tried to get away.)"

John frowned in confusion and glanced around at the bare room again. It was all there in his mind. He knew where he was. He just wished he didn't.

"(I brought you some water.)" Mishka offered, leaning down to lift his head forward and place the cup to his lips. The cool liquid spilled over the sides of his face and she sighed an apology.

"(Help me up.)" John held out his arm and clenched his teeth, groaning as she relented and assisted him to sit up against the wall. He rested there for a second, trying to catch his breath and somehow bury the panic deep down.

"(What does it mean?)" Mishka asked carefully after a time.

John opened his eyes and turned to her. "(What?)"

"23, 31, 37, 41 …" Mishka mimicked in her broken English.

John smiled and realised he had been muttering to himself. "(Prime numbers.)"

Mishka's frown deepened.

"(Sequences, patterns … they comfort me.)" John explained, a little embarrassed.

"(Like a nursery rhyme.)" Mishka surmised.

"(I guess so.)" John nodded, recalling how odd this had seemed to his beloved siblings when they were younger. And then something tugged in the back of his thoughts. The memory of his breakdown when he had returned to Thunderbird Five and his complete inability to cope with the attack had nearly driven him mad.

He had dreamed of his mother. Imagined here there. Felt her touch. What did it mean that Alex had come to him this time?

"(And this.)" Mishka reached out and slid her fingers into his hair, stroking down behind his ear. "(This also seems to help.)"

"(It does.)" John affirmed but flinching back from her touch, a little uncomfortable as to having found what had triggered his recent dream. He turned his head from her and her departing fingers caught on the scabbed over cut at his temple. Wincing, he reached up and touched his tender skin.

"(You did not tell them what they wanted to hear.)"

John looked back at her concerned face. Strange. He didn't remember them ever asking that many questions.

"(I should go.)" Mishka sighed suddenly and left the remains of the water beside him before getting to her feet.

"(Wait!)" John called after her and held his side as the underlying pain erupted once again. "(My friend. The other American. Is he okay?)"

"(He is fine.)" Mishka nodded and opened the door.

Maybe if he wasn't in so much pain he could have made a run for it. Maybe if he could so much as stand then he might have a chance. Maybe if they actually asked him some questions then he could give them whatever they might need and they would let him go.

John watched her close the door and heard the bolt slide across. It was hopeless. He wasn't here to be questioned. They thought he was just an interpreter. Not that they had any choice. Penny's contacts were good. His fake ID was flawless. And telling them any different would put his family in harm's way.

So he had resigned himself to his fate; he was nothing more than a punching bag, a toy. And they had played with him plenty over the past few hours while no doubt deciding what the hell to do with him.

The fact that they had not simply killed him was of little comfort; he was either a bargaining tool with plenty more fun to look forward to or these guys were only the support crew. Maybe the real nasties were on their way.

John looked down at his watch and groaned in dismay. It really had been only a few hours and was now just after 04:30 – local time. It felt a lot longer. And in international time difference terms, it was. He lifted the water to his lips and winced as his tongue brushed against the raw split in his lip. Not exactly the face of GAP right now.

One way or another it would be over soon. Either the big cheese would arrive and a precise shot to the head would end his troubles or the ingenious World Gov plan to wipe out all these guys would be underway and he would be nothing but ash on the breeze.

At least he would escape the pain of the disappointment in his father's eyes. Tears suddenly gathered at the thought and he swallowed them back. Little point in worrying about it any more. It wasn't like he had a say in his future. And Scott was gone. He could see that much in the sadness that had filled Mishka's eyes when he had asked her.

Multiplication. Where had he got to? John thought back over his most recent calculations and frowned as a residual image of Alex filtered through the sequences.

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

Three. There was a good number. Three made nice patterns. Three was the key factor in a multitude of equations. Three was the foundation for a whole host of scientific theory.

John rested his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, his whispered chanting falling emptily in the nothing around him.

"3, 9, 27, 81, 243, 729 …"

_tbc …_


	11. Chapter 11

It didn't make sense. Nothing made sense. And it was making his brain ache, the crazy world that had somehow replaced reality spinning around him.

It wasn't dissimilar to that time when he and Virgil had worked their way through their father's whiskey collection and had spent the next morning regretting every drop. He couldn't remember now what they had been celebrating – if anything. But there had been little need for punishment to be delivered; the sorry state of the pair of them was cause enough for them to be so very sorry. And the memory of almost turning inside out with dry heaving for most of the subsequent day was more than sufficient to keep them far from liquor ever since.

It was just that he couldn't believe it. Or that he wouldn't let himself believe it.

And yet the facts had been laid out before them. Somehow undeniable and yet impossible at the same time.

And now they were stuck here. Helpless. Grounded.

They had no idea that anything was wrong. Not until Brains had happened to wander through to that particular area of the silo and had discovered something grey crumpled in the far corner.

Parker was now carefully positioned along one of the large sofas. Snoring somewhat blissfully under the influence of whatever they had drugged him with. Man, was he going to be pissed when he awoke.

The noise of the old man's narcotised slumber had been a distraction at first. Something to stop his brain from mulling all of this over. But after a while he had wanted to think and to decipher. It wasn't like he could do much else.

And so Gordon had wandered into the central office to consult his father. He found him stood by the wide expanse of the front window, staring out into the bright blue of another cloudless day. Well, outside at least.

"How you doing, son?"

The voice was quiet, uneven with emotion. And tired.

Gordon looked down at his bandaged hands and shrugged the reply that he knew was being watched in the reflective glass.

"God … what was I thinking …" Jeff continued almost inaudibly.

Gordon frowned and wandered further into the room towards the desk. Printouts of various satellite images and communiqués were scattered across the dark wood and Gordon parted them gingerly, seeing again the extent of the secret that their father had been keeping from them.

There was the complex that Scott had discovered, the decoded transmissions that had been concealed from John and the Intel that had thus far been strongly denied. It all pieced together to form a frightening picture and Gordon could not blame their father from keeping it from them, in fact he would have been happy to never know.

"There didn't seem to be any other option …" Jeff repeated softly the excuse he had offered to his stunned sons just over half an hour ago when all that he had kept hidden had exploded around him.

Gordon glanced up at the weary, defeated figure before him and held back the retort that he had already thrown at his father once. With a sigh, he turned his attention back to the tale arrayed before him and shook his head in disbelief.

It was a weapon. A very powerful weapon. Designed by some of the greatest minds that the world had ever known and people that Brains had once called friends. Originally intended as a defensive strategy, the EM generator could produce a beam so accurate that only the intended target would be affected, to a range so narrow that even the tiniest of power sources in the smallest of devices could be silently neutralised.

The possibilities were endless. The harmless pulse could be installed in any number of civilian and military areas, ending the reign of concealed threats. It could stop a getaway car, halt a hijacking, force a missile to fall inoperative from the sky.

It had begun with the best of intentions and had grown from a desire to make the world a safer place. But then so had the search for a cheaper, less damaging power source and history still shuddered at the thought of what had developed from the discovery that it was possible to split an atom.

Gordon sat down at the desk and let out a heavy sigh, knowing that it would all have been a different story now if just one player had been removed from the board. He moved aside the other papers and stared at the enhanced image that had been taken from the satellite feed. There was no denying it. It was him.

A gentle bleep tore him from his thoughts and turned his father away from his distant gazing across the ocean. Gordon reached out and pressed a gauze-wrapped finger on the receive icon.

"Hey …" Alan forced a small smile to his lips.

Gordon nodded a greeting and his heart went out to his little brother as he saw the telltale white tracks that marked his flushed face.

"Anything?" Alan asked carefully.

"No." Gordon sighed. "Brains and Virg are still trying to untangle the mess they left down there." He glanced down at his bandaged hands, silently cursing his apparent uselessness. "You?"

Alan shrugged slightly. "Just the same static from all angles."

Gordon nodded again, trying to convey understanding; it was all he could offer to his frightened brother. Stranded just as they were, Alan had the added delight of being completely alone. And his flushed face showed the strain he was trying bravely to hide.

"Hey, Alan." Jeff was suddenly at Gordon's side, face bright and smiling. "It's gonna be okay."

Gordon looked up at their father and found nothing of his former dejection. Jeff was focused and calm, the very image of resolve. Only an hour ago and he had cursed any and all of the deities that might have been listening, wishing that his youngest had not had the strength to save the life of one that was trying again to destroy them.

It was understandable. And when Jeff had revealed the truth to his fellow captives on the island it had been abundantly clear why he had agreed to participate in the offensive strike.

"Any news from Penny?" Jeff enquired evenly.

"Not since her last update." Alan replied.

Jeff nodded and his smile grew. "She'll think of something."

"She has to." Alan agreed, "She's the only one of us who's not …" He broke off with a sigh and closed his eyes.

Gordon turned his gaze from his father to his little brother and mentally concluded the thought. Stranded, crippled, captive. It was all the same. Although the unmoving locator signals transmitting from the Russia/Kazakhstan border were infinitely more ominous.

Jeff nodded, again giving Alan a believable smile of reassurance. "We've still got time." He reminded softly, "It's gonna be okay."

Gordon glanced at the clock and shuddered involuntarily. Precious little time. The only sane thing that their father had managed bring to the operation. Time for the civilians and scientists to get out. Which gave them another two hours.

He quickly did the calculations in his head and it wasn't good. It would take 90 minutes – give or take – to complete the pre-flights and get there. And then there was the uncertainty of what they would find when they did. Brains had thirty minutes to get the hanger doors open. And it had already taken too long to find the problem.

"Keep scanning all channels." Jeff instructed softly. "Let us know if anything comes up."

Alan nodded in agreement but sudden panic flashed across his face and Gordon understood how he felt.

"I'll be here." He moved into better view of the camera and mimicked his father's reassuring smile. "Keep this line open. Keep talking to me." He flexed his hands beneath their cotton swaddling and felt the sting of the slowly healing burns. It wasn't like he was much use for anything else, anyway.

"Okay." Alan took an audible deep breath and nodded in determined agreement. "Okay."

"That's my boy." Jeff smiled and patted Gordon's shoulder before making his quick exit from the office.

Gordon watched his father leave, seeing the telltale sinking of Jeff's shoulders before he was gone from sight and free to release all he had contained within.

"I can't believe this is happening, Gord …" Alan offered quietly after a moment.

"Ditto."

"You think Scott and John are okay?"

"Sure!" Gordon replied. Perhaps a little too quickly. "Dude, they're probably negotiating a surrender at this very moment."

"They can be pretty persistent." Alan agreed, a little lighter. "Hell, they're probably nagging those guys into a deal!"

"Shit, yeah!" Gordon laughed.

"Older brothers, huh? Who'd have 'em?"

Gordon nodded quietly and saw the same thought cross Alan's face. They both would have them. In a heartbeat. Lectures and distain and fun-stopping sensibility. They'd put up with all of it to have them back safe.

And the knowledge of that made it easier to understand that their father would do whatever it took to keep them safe. It was just more than a little terrifying to learn this new definition of 'anything'.

"Gordon, get down here!"

The sudden shout through the comm. tore him from his thoughts and he gasped in anticipation.

"Get _down_ here!" Virgil repeated urgently, "And grab Dad. We've done it!"

_tbc …_


	12. Chapter 12

It was crazy. Here he was sitting in the midst of some serious messed up shit. His family and friends, hell the entire world, were threatened. And all he could focus on was how much he needed to pee.

It wasn't like he'd drunk that much, either. Maybe it was hostage lunacy settling in. Maybe it was, after all, way too much for him to comprehend. Whatever it was, there was no way he was peeing on the floor. He had his standards.

It seemed forever before they returned. And god it stung. It wasn't good to hold it in so long. He had read that somewhere.

They were surprisingly compliant. He was never left alone for a second but his captors politely looked away, holding his leash while he relieved himself. It was almost funny. These guys were no pros. That much was becoming very clear.

How they knew his identity had been cause for more than a little self-rebuke. His low pass over the complex had taken him within range of a camera. His craft might be hidden from radar but even the simplest of zooms could capture her. And the equipment these guys had was state of the art. Government issue. Damned scary.

How many there were of these guys was not so obvious. Smiley - the name he had given the lead guy - always seemed to have a different crony in tow. So that made at least five that he had met so far. And then there was the civilian population. The folks that they had spotted milling about the place late last night. Busy little beavers, whatever it was they were up to.

Smiley and the guard led him back to his cell and he followed obediently. He sat on the chair and waited for the right moment. There had been a window like this when they had untied him. But he really had needed a pee.

"Now." Smiley smiled his trademark smile. "We talk some more."

"Sure." Scott nodded.

The guard gasped as Scott wrenched back his cuffed hands at the last moment and the chain flicked free, the ring at the end catching the crouching man in the face and sending him toppling backwards.

Smiley was caught off guard as his man crumpled backwards into his legs and he also stumbled. Scott stood quickly and whipped the chain through the air. He felt the satisfying crunch of contact ripple through the chain and Smiley went down like a lead weight, clutching at his head.

Scott knelt down quickly and grabbed a handful of the guard's hair, jerking back the man's head and grabbing the small device at his temple. It wasn't easy to remove the thing and the man squirmed beneath him, crying out as the device – and a fair amount of skin – eventually came loose.

Smiley was a quick son of a bitch. He was on Scott before he even had a chance to realise it and suddenly there was an all too familiar and most unwelcome pain tearing through his back.

Scott sank forward onto his hands and knees, crippled and unable to think of anything but the pain. It was Smiley's guard that came to the rescue, his actions under the influence of all that the blocking device had held at bay.

Scott was stunned and somewhat amused as the guy lashed out clumsily at Smiley and suddenly the contact was lost. It was all the opening he needed. Scott spun round and grabbed Smiley's wrist, keeping that damned torture device well out of reach of him while he plucked the small black appendage from Smiley's temple.

"Okay, Trangh." Scott called out triumphantly and stepped back from Smiley and the guard. "Do your stuff."

He had barely finished his sentence when his two companions suddenly clutched at their heads and screamed. And that was as much as Scott could stomach. He avoided looking at the blood that dripped from the men's nose and ears and hurried from the room, locking them away with their torment.

_Down the corridor to your left. Fourth door on the right._

Scott stood up straight and winced at the residual pain between his shoulder blades. He broke into a jog and headed down the dim corridor.

Trangh was in a more secure room, it seemed. No simple bolt for him but a thicker door and a coded entry pad. Scott smiled; they obviously knew this guy as well as he did.

_2683DK _

Scott nodded and entered the code. The door clicked open and he shook his head in dismay. "Tell me again how it ever came about that I'd be helping you?"

"Call it karma." Trangh offered merrily, waiting just inside the room as the door opened. "Ah. Allow me." He nodded towards Scott's cuffed wrists and glared angrily at them.

Scott would have laughed at the comedic value of that glare had it not been so effective. The metal cuffs twisted apart and fell to the floor. He nodded in awe and stepped out of the way.

"Transport." Trangh suggested calmly.

"My brother first." Scott frowned.

Trangh seemed about to protest and then relented with a sigh. "If you insist. But I fear he will only slow us down."

"What?" Scott demanded and followed Trangh along the corridor, "What have they - " He got his answer as Trangh unbolted one of the doors and swung it wide, revealing the crumpled mess within.

John lifted his head weakly and gazed up at the opening door. He frowned slightly, as though he could not quite fathom what he was seeing.

"Oh god!" Scott groaned and hurried into the room. "John?"

"Scott?" John husked in wonder.

Scott knelt before his brother and frowned in concern at his bruised and cut face. "We need to get the hell out of here. Can you stand?"

John smiled thinly, "I'll bloody well tr - " He hadn't got far before pain stopped him and he collapsed back onto the floor.

"Come on, buddy." Scott slipped his brother's arm around his neck and tried to ignore John's protests as he helped him to his feet. His frown deepened as John hung against him weakly but he saw his brother bite his already broken lip defiantly and they walked from the room.

John froze in fear as they almost collided with a familiar presence in the corridor.

"Greetings." Trangh smiled warmly, "How good to see you again."

"What the fuck is he doing here?" John grated.

"It's a long story." Scott sighed, "Not sure I understand it myself. But he's helping us get out of here so I'm kinda prepared to not give a shit."

"But - " John began in protest and was silenced by the loud wailing of an emergency alarm.

"Gentlemen!" Trangh called merrily above the din, "I do believe that is signalling our rapid exit."

Scott nodded and helped his brother limp as quickly as he could down the corridor.

"Scott?" John husked in confusion.

"I'll explain it later, okay?" Scott shouted in reply, "First, let's get the fuck out of dodge!"

All hell had broken loose. The previously silent complex was suddenly alive. Personnel were running about the central courtyard in crazed panic. Scott paused for a moment in the refreshing downpour and looked up at the storm-filled pre-dawn sky.

"Hurry!" Trangh ordered impatiently, pointing towards the forest. "There isn't long!"

"You could always help!" Scott hissed in retort and pulled John forward, urging a quicker stride. Finally they made it through to the edge of the forest and collapsed amid the second line of trees.

"We cannot stop here!" Trangh urged breathlessly, "We have to get out of the range of the blast zone."

Scott sat back on his heels, catching his breath and suddenly frowning in confusion. "You know about the strike?"

"From you." Trangh tapped his forehead and shrugged what almost seemed an apology. He nodded into the forest and gestured for them to get back up. "Come along. The vehicle is not far."

John lifted his head and gazed in wonder at the man standing before them.

"Yeah. I know." Scott mumbled and clambered to his feet, reaching down to help his brother do the same. "But desperate times and all that crap."

John nodded and then gasped suddenly, turning back towards the complex. "Oh no! Mishka!"

"Who?" Scott frowned, steadying his brother as the wind picked up around them.

"Mishka. The female guard."

"The blonde?"

John nodded and clutched at his bruised side. "She helped me."

Scott closed his eyes and could recall the water and the gentle hands. He had not seen much of her after that first meeting and, from the look on his brother's face, could now guess where she had been.

"Gentlemen?" Trangh urged, "Why do you delay?"

"Okay, dude." Scott spun back to face him and sighed in annoyance. "One: we are not gentlemen. Two: I only agreed to help you get out of the place. Three: I'm grateful for your help but next time I see you I will kill you."

Trangh smiled in delight and suddenly it seemed as if he remembered who he was. His stance became more assured, his eyes more certain and that smile so much deadlier. "I suppose we understand each other better than we'd care to admit."

"Whatever, dude."

"Farewell then."

"Just go already!" Scott groaned in annoyance. He then watched in dismay as The Hood nodded slowly and stepped backwards, disappearing dramatically into the forest.

"God, that guy bugs me!" Scott fumed. He turned to John and saw the confusion on his brother's face. "Not now."

John nodded and turned back towards the complex.

"You sure about this?" Scott urged.

John nodded. "She helped us." He replied over the storm. "And it's kinda part of our job description."

"Okay." Scott sighed, "But – for the record – I think this is a bad idea."

"Makes a change for it not to be yours then." John grinned.

"Now is not the time to finally develop a sense of humour, bud."

John shrugged and winced at the pain in his side. He leaned gratefully on his brother and they marched back out of the forest and into the rain.

The staff had all but evacuated the place. Most of the transports and trucks had left laden with people; soldiers and scientists alike as far as Scott could tell. It hadn't left the two of them with much chance of fleeing the area fast and he frowned in concern.

"Mishka!" John shouted down the corridor, clutching at his injured side. "Mishka!"

"Maybe she left with the others." Scott offered.

"Yeah." John sighed. "I guess."

They headed back out into the courtyard and saw a small group of personnel huddled together outside the building.

"John!"

John spun towards the voice and smiled in relief. "Mishka!"

Mishka hurried across to him, her face full of fear. "(They left without us! There was no more room.)"

"(I know. We need to get somewhere safe. Is there anywhere underground? A shelter or something?)"

"(Why?)"

"(Just -)" John sighed to control the anger that panic and frustration had suddenly created. "(Trust me. We need to get somewhere safe. And fast.)"

Mishka shook her head sadly and then suddenly gasped in delight. "(The old missile silos! Quick! They are not far!)"

"Scott! Come on!" John turned back to his brother and grabbed his arm. "Let's go!"

"Wait …" Scott replied quietly, his gaze fixed on the dark clouds rushing across the troubled sky above the trees.

"What?" John urged and then suddenly he heard the sound. It was unmistakeable. Although similar to the distant rumble of thunder, to the trained ear it was more like music.

Scott smiled in delight and nodded gratefully. "They're here."

John watched the clouds and saw them brighten. The immense green hulk parted the wisps of grey with ease, the guiding lights in her underbelly glowing brightly.

"Yay!" Scott punched the air suddenly and whooped in triumph. "Go, Virg!"

John laughed gently and watched the colossal craft glide effortlessly down towards them. He turned to the group of personnel and began to explain that they were safe.

"Um … John …" Scott murmured above the storm and the hissing thrusters of the hovering bulk above them.

"Yeah, Scott?" John turned back and saw the confusion on his brother's face. He followed his gaze and saw the small ramp that had lowered from beneath the nose of Thunderbird 2. "That's new."

Scott peered through the rain and watched with growing horror as the missile was lowered into position. "That's not Thunderbird 2!" He shouted suddenly.

"What?" John demanded in fright.

"GO!" Scott shoved his brother hard and grabbed him to keep him upright and yet still moving away from the craft. "RUN!"

His orders needed no further interpretation. The panic on his face was universal. The small huddle of personnel turned and fled across the courtyard.

Mishka hung back and grabbed John's free arm, swinging it around her neck and helping Scott to almost carry John beyond the complex towards the silos.

They had almost reached the immense metal doors that hung out from the angled bunker roof when the explosion erupted. The force of the blast slammed into them and knocked them forwards, the three of them tumbling together onto the ground as fire and shrapnel speared through the air.

_tbc …_


	13. Chapter 13

In the aftermath of the explosion it was suddenly eerily quiet. Even the storm above them seemed to have warily backed off. Scott lifted his head and groaned at the soft ringing that was muting the sounds around him.

Turning carefully to look behind them, he frowned as his eyes rested on the still standing complex. Although shrouded in heavy, black smoke the place was untouched and he adjusted his gaze, seeing the burning remains of a large fighter plane smouldering at the edge of the forest.

The illusion had been good. He had no idea how it had been created. All he knew was that a slight shudder in the hologram – or whatever it was – and a thorough knowledge of his beloved craft's sister ship and he had seen through the deception.

A groan beside him caught his attention and he looked away from the wreckage to watch Mishka slowly lifting herself up onto her knees. She lifted her hand to the back of her head and winced as her fingers felt the dampness of her blood soaked hair. After a brief pause she then took in her surroundings and her eyes met Scott's.

"You okay?" Scott offered huskily, pushing his stiffening body up into an awkward sitting position.

Mishka nodded and looked down at the still form between them.

"I'm fine." John answered their as yet unspoken concern and moaned wearily. "I'm just not moving. Ever."

Scott smiled and reached out to place his hand on his brother's shoulder and leaving it there for both of their reassurance.

"What happened?" Mishka frowned, looking back at the glowing remains of the first few rows of pine trees, the persistent rain preventing an all out blaze catching from the wreckage.

"I'm not sure." Scott replied honestly. He looked up into the cloud and smoke-covered sky and could hear no tell tale rumble of any other craft. "Something blew it up." He offered, in still-bewildered quietness.

"Was it ours?" John asked wearily, finally lifting his face from the rubble around them and turning to his brother.

Scott peered at the wreckage and shrugged a reply. "Without going over there to check … I've no idea …"

"(Why did it come here? Why was it attacking us?)" Mishka blurted out suddenly.

Scott frowned and looked to John for both a reply and a clue as to what she had said.

"(The experiment your people were working has fallen into some bad hands. It needs to be destroyed.)"

Scott watched the horror that grew in Mishka's eyes and was still none the wiser. Although he could hazard a pretty good guess.

"(But this is a government facility!)" Mishka shook her head slowly, her eyes brimming with tears. "(A joint venture between Russian and British and American and - )"

"(I know!)" John heaved himself up from the debris-covered ground and his face crumpled with pain as he got to his knees and fell back on his heels. "I know." His hand went to his broken ribs and stayed there for support as he reached out to her.

"Anybody wanna include me in this?" Scott wondered aloud.

John shook his head to convey reassurance; he was only filling her in on what they already knew.

"Well. How's about we get out of the rain and find some way to call home." Scott clambered to his feet and then helped his two equally stunned and weary companions to stand. John wobbled unsteadily as the three of them then continued their journey to the silos.

The civilian personnel were quiet in their shock and confusion. Scott breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Panic was more than a hindrance in any language. He helped John over to a small, bare bench and then began to scope the place.

It really was as they had described it; abandoned. There was nothing. No means of communication and not even a blanket to combat the chill of soaked clothes and the past hours of captivity. The silo was simply a hole, with the remains of missile support struts and a few old bits of broken machinery that were probably as old as their father's antique Ford.

Scott made his way back to his brother and the group of personnel that huddled nearby. Their frightened faces told him that John had brought them up to speed and he groaned inwardly as he noticed them watching him expectantly. For once, it might be nice if he wasn't somehow automatically in charge.

"I think our best chance is back to the complex. See if we can contact someone." Scott shrugged.

John nodded in agreement and quickly translated for those who needed it.

"There might be people inside." Mishka frowned in concern. "I go."

"Okay." Scott turned to her, seeing the sense in her thoughts and the advantage that her uniform would provide if anyone in the complex were armed and feeling panicky. "But not alone." He looked around at the personnel and nodded to one of the men. "Can I borrow your coat?"

"I should go with you." John urged and began to his feet. He groaned and fell back onto the bench.

Scott tugged the somewhat snug damp lab coat around his shoulders and hurried over to John.

"Or maybe not." John conceded through clenched teeth.

"No." Scott confirmed softly, placing his hand on his brother's shoulder and frowning in concern. He turned to Mishka and she nodded in understanding before then addressing one of the civilians.

"Ustin will look after him." Mishka smiled thinly.

"Doctor?" Scott urged.

"Quantum physicist." Ustin shrugged as he sat down beside John.

Scott smiled and nodded in amusement as he regarded his brother. "That works." He leaned forward and gently squeezed John's shoulder, his brother slowly opening his eyes in response. "You stay here and talk geek stuff."

John managed a small smile of agreement. "Just get us out of here." He husked.

oooo

First stop had been to collect some self-defence. Mishka had led Scott quickly and carefully around to the rear of the complex and into one of the vehicle hangars. There was no pleasant surprise of a remaining truck or car but there was a small armoury. They selected a few choice weapons and headed back to the main building.

It was empty. They scouted the corridors twice just to be sure and checked all the rooms in unison, their slight language barrier suddenly of no concern as their military training took over.

The only place they left unchecked was Scott's former prison. He had seen the state of Smiley and his comrade before he had locked them in and there was little point looking in on them. He managed to convey as much to Mishka and she paused for the briefest of moments to mourn her colleagues. She had seen what they had done, after all.

The laboratories and offices had been abandoned in a hurry. Some computers still whirred with their continued analysis and amid the fully lit rooms lay evidence of a swift departure; overturned cups and scattered files the only clue of the previous activity here.

Scott was amazed at the fact that these guys had been working so late into the night but he guessed that they were being forced to complete their work in a hurry ever since they had been discovered.

The main control room was on an upper level, allowing a panoramic view of the labs and offices and the central glassed off area where the prototype EM generator sat quietly. Subsequent designs were somewhat more compact but this thing looked more like the crazy comic-book gadget that Scott had imagined. And so much more like a weapon. He shuddered and forced his focus to the task at hand, helping Mishka to find a comm. device or a telephone or something.

"Here!" Scott smiled in delight and cleared a space around the radio, admiring the simple form of their saviour.

Mishka frowned in confusion. "We call on phone. Contact government."

"Hell, no!" Scott laughed, "Who knows who's on what side right now." He switched on the radio and began to tune in to the correct frequency. He then noticed Mishka moving closer in curiosity and he spun the dial, smiling as he turned to face her. "Secret code, I'm afraid."

Mishka's frown grew and then realisation began to spread across the dirty, flushed skin of her not completely unattractive face. "You call Thunderbirds."

"Yup."

Mishka smiled suddenly and a gentle laugh filled the office. "They are your friends." She nodded in understanding. "You lied to Ballensky."

"Ballensky?" Scott frowned and then grinned suddenly. "Oh, Smiley? Yeah, I lied." He watched Mishka backing away to give him some privacy and he laughed gently. "A whole heap of lies."

Mishka shook her head in wonder and perched on the edge of the desk, keeping her eye on the door and the complex below as the strange American tuned in the radio.

"Thunderbird 5, come in."

"Scott!"

The excited reply was immediate and loud. Scott sighed in relief and turned down the volume. "Yeah, it's me."

"What? I mean how? I mean - "

"Calm down a second!" Scott's smile grew in fondness. "What's our status?"

"Us? Dude, we're more worried about you. I mean, Dad - "

"Whoa. Slow down." Scott chuckled and glanced warily at his companion. "I'm hoping that help is on the way."

A pause.

"You there?" Scott urged.

"International Rescue is en route. We have a fix on your position. ETA 35 minutes."

Scott closed his eyes, relief spreading through him with sudden warmth.

"What is your status?"

Scott smiled again. Alan had got the hint and was being as professional as he could. It was a relief but it sounded strange coming from his little brother when Scott knew that there was a thousand and one things that Alan wanted – needed – to say.

"We're fine." Scott replied, thinking back to John and deciding against adding any more worry to the already long enough list. "Have you had any contact from FAB 1?"

"Affirmative. Safe with friends. I take it the interjection worked."

"It did."

"I'll relay that."

"Thanks." Scott swallowed back the sudden urge to blurt out so much more. He could hear the waiver in his little brother's voice and it made his chest ache.

"Guess I'll see you soon." Alan concluded after a moment. "I'd better update the team."

"Thanks." Scott agreed quietly, "See you soon." He signed off and let out a heavy sigh.

"Dad?" Mishka asked quietly.

Scott turned and saw her smiling warmly. He shrugged a response and dragged a hand through his hair.

"So you are something more than a mere agent."

Scott's heart thudded against his chest as suddenly the gentle lilt of an East Coast accent hung in the air around them.

"And John. I'm guessing he's your brother."

Instinct kicked in and he spun, reaching for the gun that he had left lying beside the radio. But she was faster. Scarily so.

"Don't." Mishka ordered softly.

Something in her tone made him comply without question. That and the barrel of the gun that was now pressing into his neck.

_tbc …_


	14. Chapter 14

Life didn't flash before his eyes. Life simply stopped.

There was nothing. No sound. No replay of memories.

Just the passing of a second and the thud-thud of a heartbeat that seemed to last for an eternity.

Scott stood very still and could think of not a great deal other than the cold barrel pressing into his skin. It was somehow disappointing. And yet at the same time a completely understandable survival instinct.

"Don't." Mishka warned again and leaned past him, grabbing the weapon that had remained so tantalisingly within his reach.

He obeyed her completely and waited for her to make her next move. When it came, it hit even harder than the gun butt to the back of the head that he had somehow expected.

The gun was removed from his neck and there was a slight sigh. "I'm CIA."

Scott closed his eyes and tried to figure a response. Oh god. Was this good or bad?

"Turn around."

Scott complied and saw the dismay on her face.

"I'm sorry …" She nodded to the now lowered gun in her hand and flicked on the safety. "We're in some pretty crazy shit here and I didn't want my head blown off by some insane reflex."

Scott watched her warily and slowly nodded. She had suddenly changed. Gone was the confidence. Gone was the tough Russian fighter that he had just searched the complex with. And he guessed this was her. The tender hands and the compassion that had accompanied the water.

"I'm sorry." She repeated. "I would have said something before if …" A loud sigh and a shrug of suddenly heavy shoulders. "It's just … I didn't know which part of all this was the truth …"

Scott watched her warily, sarcasm pleading to be released. Who was _she_ to start complaining about truth and confusion and –

"Oh god. This is all such a mess …"

Scott's eyes moved to the guns that still hung in her grasp and frowned as he watched her close her eyes. His heart leapt as he saw his chance and it then did another double-flip as he decided to let the moment pass. Something about her demeanour was just too convincing and he found himself intrigued, despite the nagging in the back of his mind that she could very well be playing a very clever, very dangerous game.

"CIA, huh?" Scott offered quietly, finally finding his voice.

She looked back up at him and shrugged what seemed yet another apology.

"Well …" A smile danced on his lips and he relaxed his stance a little. "I didn't see that one coming."

"Guess that means I'm good at my job."

"Yeah." Scott nodded emphatically and then a frown creased his brow. "So … how …?"

He shook his head and laughed again. "I'm sorry. This is just a lot to take in." He then watched her for a moment and his confusion returned. "I don't suppose you'd have any proof of this … I mean – as you said – we're in some pretty crazy shit here and - "

"No." She replied quietly. "Why would I?"

"Oh … yeah … right … deep cover and all that …" Scott sighed and lifted his hands skyward. "Guess I'll have to just trust you then." He smiled sheepishly. "Not that I've got much of a choice …"

She looked down at the weapons she still held and groaned slightly. "God, I'm sorry!" She holstered her own weapon and laid his on the desk beside her. "That better?"

"Kinda." Scott shrugged.

She saw the doubt in his eyes and suddenly her posture relaxed further. She smiled in understanding, "We're on the same side, y'know."

Scott returned her smile but his head was spinning. Maybe they originated from the same country but he now had so much more to lose. It was a confusing predicament. If she was who she said she was then more help could surely be summoned. But that meant more spooks. More exposure. And he wasn't sure if they really needed help of the oh god we're rumbled kind.

He couldn't think straight. It was all too much and his body was damned tired from all that he had put it through over the past day. John. John would know what to do. Oh god. John!

"I need to get back to my br- … partner." Scott adjusted quickly, still not wanting to give her too much leverage.

"Of course." She stepped aside and indicated his clear path to the door.

Scott stepped cautiously past her and headed towards the stairs, aware of her following a safe distance from him. It was the precise distance that again highlighted years of training and the message was clear; she still wasn't sure about him and there was no way that he could completely relax near her. And it was a distance he now knew she could cross in an instant and his heart was racing as he left the office.

"So, what's your name?" He asked casually as he descended the stairs.

"Eva." She replied easily, "Eva Miller."

"Eva?" Scott echoed, trotting down the last few steps.

"Russian grandmother." She offered.

"Oh." Scott offered casually, keeping his gaze forward and suddenly seeing his chance nearing at the end of the corridor.

"It's why I was chosen for this."

"And what exactly is 'this'?" Scott continued, his heart pounding as he drew her along behind him, waiting for the right moment.

A slight pause.

"Infiltrate the complex." Eva answered carefully, "Keep an eye on progress. Establish any possible threats."

"Uh-huh." Scott responded calmly.

"We had our doubts about Ballensky." She continued, "But we hadn't foreseen the links he had with that freak."

"Freak?" Scott asked suddenly, now seriously intrigued and stepping decisively beyond the chance he had been waiting for. He frowned in confusion and turned the corner at the end of the corridor, retracing their steps back out of the complex.

"Yeah. You're friend, Trangh. Lovely guy."

"He's not my - "

"I know." Eva agreed softly, "Or at least I do _now. _Must admit, it was kinda disappointing to hear you say that the guy that blew up your satellite was your friend."

Now that was too much. The police investigation in England had corroborated their story and the hijacking of their craft had been fully explained. But they hadn't revealed everything. Thunderbird Five should still be a closely guarded secret.

Scott stopped abruptly in his tracks and turned slowly. "What do you know about that?"

Eva halted, still maintaining the same carefully judged distance from him and shrugged her shoulders. "Only what he bragged about when he came here. I overheard him and Ballensky talking about it. Ballensky and his followers wanted to turn the work here into a weapon and use the EM pulse against a whole host of targets. Your guy was only interested in one thing."

"Us." Scott surmised.

"Oh yeah. Talk about obsessed. That was why Ballensky had to neutralise him. Damn psycho went crazy! And he's got some sort of mind control gadgetry or something." Eva swept aside a lock of dirty blonde fringe and revealed the small black device attached to her forehead.

Scott suddenly smiled and shook his head. "Shit!" He gasped in disbelief, "He really _was_ a prisoner!"

"Well … yeah."

"Shit!" Scott exclaimed a little louder and clutched his hands to his heads in disbelief. "And I let him go!"

Eva stared at him in disbelief. "What …?"

"I let him go." Scott repeated, hardly able to comprehend the full implications of it himself.

"But … why …?"

"You had John and he used it to …" He groaned and suddenly saw the irony. "Oh god … I was trying to protect him …"

Eva watched him warily and swallowed hard.

"It was you." Scott muttered quietly. "You were protecting me." He watched her nod in agreement and his shoulders fell. "And you believed our story."

"His ID was flawless." Eva shrugged, "I managed to convince Ballensky not to harm you. Told him how much more trouble would descend on him if he harmed a Thunderbird

but … there wasn't a lot I could do for a civilian …"

The air seemed thick around them suddenly and Scott could feel nausea from hunger and exhaustion threatening. He searched her face, trying to find some sign that this really was her now and that she was telling the truth.

"Why?" Scott husked after a moment. "Why help me?"

"You were my exit."

Scott's frown deepened. "Your _exit_ …?"

Eva nodded. "My contact gave me a heads up about the planned strike this morning. The civilians would be evacuated but I was trapped, too close to Ballensky to somehow slip away and risk him suspecting something." She sighed heavily. "And that was that. I was expendable." She shuddered at the memory. "But then I got this weird message that an International Rescue operative was en route." Eva nodded towards Scott and a small smile pulled at her mouth. "It was kind of funny to think that the only way the government could get me out was to call you guys."

Scott watched the amusement that danced on her face but it only added fuel to the sickening dread that had been growing.

"You can imagine my disappointment when Ballensky's men then apparently capture the mole that The Hood had been working with and his guide." Eva continued with a nervous chuckle. "I didn't want to believe it at first but you didn't waiver. And I've seen that torture device of his in use."

Scott flinched at the memory and then closed his eyes, seeing the truth finally unfolding before him. And then her words suddenly sank in. "Mole …?" He echoed cautiously.

Eva frowned and watched him with renewed caution. "It was how he originally found you."

Scott could feel the world spinning dizzily around him and for a moment it seemed so tempting to just sink into the blackness and escape it all. But this new information slammed into him hard and he saw her in a new light. CIA or not, she had inside information on his family. She had spent time with The Hood.

Eva had relaxed slightly. Their conversation had distracted her for the merest of moments and the lessening distance had gone unnoticed. Unnoticed to all but him.

He saw the chance and this time he took it. At once crossing the corridor and preventing her from unholstering the weapon she had instinctively begun to reach for. And then he was against her, slamming her into the wall and pressing his arm into her neck.

"Enough!" Scott growled furiously, the threat to his family his only and overriding concern.

Eva struggled at first, kicking out at him and grabbing at the arm that pinned her but then his other hand was at her waist and the weapon was yanked free. She sank against the wall in submission and watched the fury in his eyes as she heard the safety being clicked off and the barrel was pressed into her temple.

"Now …" Scott breathed angrily, leaning closer to her. "Tell me Eva or Mishka or whoever the hell you are. How were you _really_ planning on getting out of here?"

"Please!" She husked, gasping for air. "It's the truth!"

"Which story?" Scott demanded angrily.

"I'm Eva!" She whimpered, pulling again at his elbow and trying to free the pressure on her throat. "Agent Miller. CIA. I'm … I'm on your side!"

Scott searched her face and glared into her frightened green eyes, wishing that somehow he could read her mind. And then an idea came to him. He moved the barrel of the gun a little higher, nudging at the device that sat amid her hairline. The skin lifted with the edge and drew another whimper from his captive.

"Please!" Eva husked.

Scott tapped the gun hard against the device and saw the pain that crossed her face.

"No!" Eva pleaded weakly, "You can't! He'll see! He'll know!"

"Oh, he's long gone by now." Scott countered evenly, "Isn't he?"

"I don't know!" Eva replied faintly, "Please! I only know that if you take that off then …" She closed her eyes and tears rolled down her reddening face.

Scott thought back to the effect that suddenly exposing his captors had caused. He watched her face crumple as she began to sob in fear and he stepped back from her, releasing his grip and sighing in dismay.

Eva clutched at her bruised throat and slid down the wall to come to a heavy slump on the floor. "Please …" She was crying now, her shoulders trembling. "I'm telling you the truth …"

Scott watched her for a moment, confusion and guilt knotting his brow. All this was giving him a headache. And suddenly he could understand why John sometimes just needed quiet and a dark room.

John. The thought brought Scott speedily back to his senses and he bent down to grab Eva's arm, ignoring her whimper of protest as he dragged her to her feet. "Let's go."

Scott marched her quickly back through the complex, ignoring her quiet sobs of protest. She staggered unsteadily beside him and he tried to disregard the obvious pain in her occasional rasping coughs. If it was another act then he couldn't let himself fall into her trap. If it wasn't, then she really was an ally. And he had really hurt her.

They emerged into the brightness of the now storm free morning and Scott quickly scoped the area for any threat before continuing out towards the silos.

And that's when he saw them. Two trucks. The same military-like insignia of the security force painted amid the camouflage canvas.

Scott ducked behind the corner of a warehouse, pulling Eva back with him. His heart raced as he peered around the edge and watched in horror as the guards headed inside the open huge open doors of the missile silo.

_tbc …_


	15. Chapter 15

The sky around them was lightening almost faster than their eyes could adjust. They had left the fading day of the Island and were now arriving just after dawn over Eastern Europe. And all in little under an hour.

Jeff gripped the arms of his chair and closed his eyes, fighting a futile battle to stay calm. His emotions had been in turmoil for what seemed forever and he could feel an already aching heart thudding way too fast inside him.

Virgil had been keeping something of a close eye on him for some time. And it had come as no surprise when he had softly but firmly ordered his father into the co-pilot's seat. There was no way that Jeff was going to be allowed to drive in the state he was in.

The call had come shortly after they had crossed the Pacific. Alan had been garbled and excited and that had been enough. The details were secondary concerns. Scott had made contact.

And since that moment, a speed of over 5000 mph had suddenly become impossibly slow. Which was not helping Jeff's mood. Or his racing pulse.

It went against every instinct to now be taking what remained of his scattered family into the danger zone. And it contradicted the many arguments he had shared with them to now be racing to where he had expressly forbid them to go.

But it was too late for any of that now. He wanted Scott and John safe in his arms again.

And then he was going to rip them to shreds for what they had done. Or maybe he was simply going to hold them and never let go. It changed from moment to moment.

"Thunderbird 5 to Thunderbird 2."

Jeff opened his eyes and turned to look at the comm., a familiar sense of dread pressing down on his chest.

"Yeah, Alan." Virgil responded quickly.

"I've got an odd energy reading coming out of the complex."

Jeff held his breath.

"Odd?" Virgil echoed. "Define, odd."

"Patching it through."

Virgil scanned through the downloading data and turned to his father, concern filling his eyes.

"The EM weapon." Jeff confirmed in a whisper.

Virgil waited not another second. His hands moved expertly over the controls, banking the immense craft hard to the left and ascending into the upper atmosphere, drawing a groan of protest from his passengers as the G-forces dragged through them.

"Dad?" Alan urged worriedly.

"What about the locator beacons?" Jeff asked quickly, trying to pull his youngest back from the brink of panic that he could hear in his voice.

"One moving on the edge of the complex. One about 700 metres away on the perimeter."

Jeff nodded thoughtfully. Still moving. That must surely be a good sign. Separated again, however, was ominous. But trying to find some sort of pattern in the movement of the signals they had been monitoring was of no help. Without being there, he could have no idea what was going on. And that was a big part of the problem.

"What _is_ the range of that thing?" Gordon asked after a moment, bracing himself against his seat as Thunderbird 2 continued to climb in her swift retreat.

Jeff turned to him and could only offer silence.

Virgil glanced at his father and swallowed hard. "Alan?" He turned back to the comm. "What's Penny's ETA?"

"I guess about twenty minutes, judging from her last contact."

Virgil nodded, absorbing and assimilating.

"Okay." Jeff sighed, suddenly finding the strength to let reason cut a path through his fear. He took a deep breath and tried to ignore the voices that screamed at him to just get the hell down there and grab hold of his sons. Charging in without thinking would help none of them. A lesson he had painfully learned when he had watched helpless, trapped while The Hood tried to strangle the life from his son.

"We'll hang here and wait." Jeff suggested carefully. "It's all we can do." He watched his sons nodding in dismayed agreement and heard Alan's affirmative over the comm.

"I'll contact Brains." Virgil offered quietly, "See if he can hazard a guess about that thing's capability. Establish a safe holding pattern."

Jeff nodded in agreement. He then closed his eyes and forced his aching fingers to relax their grip as he quietly, secretly began to pray.

* * *

Scott watched in silent dread as the civilian personnel were guided from the silos and into the waiting trucks. He slid further back from view as the guards then headed towards the main complex and was aware of Eva moving up close behind him.

"They came back." Eva observed in a whisper.

Scott nodded, trying to simultaneously anticipate the route the approaching guards would take and also watching the entrance to the silo.

"I guess they wanted to come check what had happened. Look for survivors."

Scott glanced at her in interest.

Eva shrugged, "Apart from the odd few psychopaths, it's a good company to work for."

Scott shook his head in disbelief and turned his attention back to the nearing guards.

"This might be to our advantage." Eva offered quietly.

Scott pondered this for a moment. She had, after all, developed a high-ranking identity among the security force. But there were also too many unknown variables. What if her men should question the fact that she was now aiding one who had been their prisoner? What if she was still lying and he let her get close to potential reinforcements?

"Where's John?" Eva asked suddenly.

Scott nodded in agreement. He had also noted his brother's lack of appearance from the silo and it was more than a little concerning.

They needed to get over there. He had to know what was going on. But there was still the matter of the –

Scott held his breath as one of the trucks rumbled back into life and headed away from the complex, ferrying its passengers to safety. The other stood still and empty. And soon the remaining guards were in the complex and out of sight.

"Come on!" Scott saw their opportunity and grabbed Eva's wrist, pulling her after him and heading out beyond the warehouse.

Despite keeping low and moving fast, they were ridiculously exposed as they bolted across the open space between the complex and the silos. Scott somehow managed to not take a breath through the entire journey and slipped quickly behind one of the immense hangar doors.

Breathless and still very aware of the danger around them, Scott paused for a moment to collect himself. He then signalled for Eva to stay close and ensured his weapon was armed before peering cautiously around the door and into the silo.

It was apparently empty. Scott headed further down inside the immense shaft to the bottom level. The silo had long been stripped of its equipment and had fallen into disrepair but its general shape had an oddly familiar feel. Scott smiled despite himself and headed down into the sunken pit at the base. A sudden, poignant memory of a game of hide and seek sneaked into his mind as he peered into one of the exhaust tubes in the side of the pit and breathed a sigh of relief.

Ustin smiled in delight and muttered a few words that Scott somehow didn't need translating.

Scott helped the greying man clamber from the narrow tube, Ustin carefully edging past his worryingly still companion.

"He panic!" Ustin urged hurriedly, watching Scott reach into the tube to check on John. "Hide! Hide!" He flapped his arms in emphasis, frowning as Scott began to pull John's limp form from the tube. "We hide." Ustin continued, hurrying back to help lift John carefully down to the ground. "And then …"

Scott nodded in gratitude for the urgent explanation and placed his hand on Ustin's shoulder to try and calm him. He then glanced upwards and Ustin followed his gaze, erupting into hushed but delighted babbling as he spotted his compatriot.

Scott sighed gratefully as Eva climbed into the pit and spoke soothingly to the kind but all too excitable scientist. He frowned in concern and checked again the rapid, weak pulse in John's neck. His brother was almost paler than the whitewashed walls of the silo and sweat glistened on the cold skin of his still face.

"The truck." Eva offered from behind him, her false accent again resumed in Ustin's presence.

Scott nodded. His instinct told him not to move John any more but they seemed to have precious little choice.

The worrying lack of response as Scott and Ustin lifted John from the ground brought a lump to Scott's throat but he pushed it aside, willing his rescue training to quickly take over.

Eva checked the area was safe and beckoned for them to make a quick dash for the empty vehicle.

It wasn't easy. Scott held John tightly against him, gripping him firmly under the shoulders while Ustin carried his legs. They hauled him into the rear of the truck as fast – and carefully – as they could while Eva clambered into the cab.

He still didn't know if he could trust her and something about being caught up caring for his brother made him feel vulnerable. And there was the small matter of not knowing what the hell she and Ustin were saying to each other. But Scott was fast running out of options.

Scott lifted the soft, still rain-soaked cotton of John's shirt and groaned as he saw the damage beneath. Dark bruising swirled in an odd navy pattern that almost completely covered the right side of John's chest and abdomen, revealing evidence of the repeated blows that Scott could well imagine.

John's skin was cold to the touch and Scott swallowed hard as he gently stroked along his ribcage. The chest wall seemed symmetrical but the slight crunch beneath Scott's fingers revealed the fractures within and caused Scott to shudder in revulsion; if there was one thing that he couldn't stomach it was broken bones, despite having broken many of his own in the past. He quickly removed his hand and pulled the shirt back over the damage, looking back up at John's face. And he smiled in relief as he watched his brother grimace in pain.

"Hey …" Scott leaned closer, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder. "You're still with us, then?"

John's face relaxed a little and he gave a slight groan in response. "Wish I wasn't." He managed quietly.

Scott's smile grew; John was conscious and responsive, his GCS rising and Scott's spirits with them.

"Shit!" Eva suddenly exclaimed in annoyance.

Scott looked up towards the cab. "What? No keys?"

Eva groaned. "No nothing."

Scott stood and wandered along the truck to the open window at the rear of the cab. He watched Eva turn the key and heard the odd dull click. And nothing more. And then suddenly he knew. He looked to the dead instrument panel and groaned in dismay.

Turning back, Scott checked first Ustin's and then John's watch and groaned again.

"EM pulse." Ustin concluded quietly.

"Shit!" Eva hissed again.

_tbc …_


	16. Chapter 16

Amid the rapidly decreasing number of other possibilities, this had seemed to be the best choice. They had scurried back into the complex quietly and carefully, making their way to the small office that had once belonged to the medical staff.

It made sense that a permanent base such as this would need to provide basic care and treatment to it's stranded employees. Of all the protected power supplies within the complex, the doctor's room was fortunately included and functioning on the protected circuits of the emergency generator. No radio or other means of contacting help, though. Much to Scott's chagrin.

And then there was Eva. Back in character as Mishka, insisting on maintaining her cover and speaking to Ustin in a language she knew that Scott didn't understand. John had reassured him that she was only keeping the Russian scientist up to date. But then John didn't know who she really was. And Scott had yet found the chance to explain.

It was making an already short-tempered Scott more than a little paranoid. And wondering why she couldn't reveal herself to this seemingly harmless Ustin fellow was not helping. But then he had to concede that Ustin was somewhat in the dark as to who these two strange Americans actually were. Not that he seemed all that bothered.

Scott watched Ustin and Eva talking quietly, animatedly together and nodding in agreement at whatever it was. It annoyed him further; she should be watching the door, not keeping up appearances. A groan beside him then pulled his attention back to his brother and he turned to look at him.

John seemed a little better. They had found an emergency pack in one of the store cupboards and had quickly set to work. There was a small cylinder of oxygen in the bag and the gentle flow within the mask had brought a hint of pink to his lips. There were also bags of plasma expanders and one was now running into him through the IV line, replacing blood volume and beginning to bring a steadier rhythm to his pulse.

It had been a while since Scott had administered this type of emergency medicine. It was usually Virgil that leapt in to undertake the gory, fiddly stuff and Scott had missed the vein several times before the IV catheter had finally slid into place. John had been his usual patient self but Scott would somehow have much rather that his brother had shouted at him. Quiet was John. But quiet in these circumstances was also bad.

"What are they babbling about?" Scott asked softly, trying to distract himself from the growing dread that his brother's improvement could change course at any time and the apparent internal bleeding was going to need far more than he could offer here. And fast.

John opened his eyes and the cloud of a sigh washed against the clear mask over his mouth. "He says he knows how to … to turn off the EM device." He listened to the conversation for a moment and turned to Scott. "They're planning how."

Scott frowned in concern and clambered onto his hands and knees, edging across the room and keeping well under the wide windows above them. "No way!" He whispered angrily.

Eva turned to him warily.

"I'm not letting you two go out there." He expanded.

"Is safe." Ustin countered quietly, "Mishka and I - "

"No." Scott repeated sternly.

Eva watched him for a moment and then nodded in understanding. "Then you go."

Scott's frown grew.

"We must turn off." Eva urged softly, in the broken English that now suddenly seemed so obviously fake. "Ustin know how. Need protection."

Scott held her gaze and tried to read her calm expression. What was this? A trap?

Eva nodded in earnest, "I stay with John."

Scott glanced towards the weary form of his brother huddled amid layers of blankets and his heart sank.

"I look after him."

Scott was lost. He looked back at her and watched her nod again, her eyes desperately trying to convey her sincerity.

"Scott …" John called softly.

Scott hurried back to him and began to protest as John pulled the oxygen mask from his face.

"_No one_ can get in … not if that thing is active." John urged wearily, his voice not that much clearer outside the plastic.

"Yeah, but …" Scott searched for the right words, "How do we know we can _trust_ them?"

John looked into his brother's worried face and seemed to understand that there was something he could not tell him. "Then you … you have to go … I'll be fine." He managed a small smile but was too tired to hold back the fear that crossed his face.

Leave John or let Eva go. Scott paused there, unsure. Either way meant trusting her. And then suddenly he thought of an alternative. He took the gun from the waist of his trousers and placed it in John's lap.

John looked down and groaned in dismay. Too weak to argue but too stubborn to not at least try, he shook his head.

"I don't trust her." Scott whispered, glancing behind them and noting in relief that Eva's attention was elsewhere.

"But …" John urged faintly, looking back up at his brother with renewed fear. "What … what about you?"

"I'll be fine. There's plenty more where that one came from." Scott smiled thinly and gently forced the mask back over his brother's nose and mouth. "And besides," he tugged at the collar of his lab coat and his smile grew. "I think I make a pretty convincing science geek."

"Till you open your mouth." John retorted, amusement pulling at the edges of the oxygen mask.

"Funny guy." Scott jeered softly.

"Yeah?" John enthused, brightening suddenly, "I'll be here all week." He gave a small laugh and then tensed in pain, his eyes closing tightly.

Scott watched his brother sink back against the cabinet and desperately wished there was something more he could give him. The precious find of the morphine vials in the medicine cupboard had sparked a heated discussion between them all but Scott had eventually won, administering a small, tentative dose that would not sedate his brother's already struggling systems. And it had worked. A little.

"We go. Now."

Scott turned and saw Ustin crouching eagerly beside the open door.

"Go." John agreed quietly.

Scott looked back and was aware of John sliding the gun under the blankets that wrapped him, his arm then resting back over his abdomen to conceal it. John gave him a small nod of reassurance and Scott swallowed hard, shooting Eva a warning glare as he followed Ustin.

John watched them crawl carefully from the room and soon disappear from sight. If they were careful – and lucky – the guards would not suspect anything. They might even help them deactivate the machine.

"Hey …"

John watched his remaining companion edging across the floor towards him. She had concern in her eyes and an apparent weariness sitting on her shoulders that he could well understand. He recalled how she had sat with him in his cell and how she had tried to protect him, comfort him. But Scott's warning had been clear. John felt the shape of the gun resting beneath his blankets and what little adrenaline that remained in his exhausted body stirred inside him.

"So … John …"

John's eyes were heavy and he was far from the right mood for talking but he turned to her and tried to stay alert as she neared him. It was completely hopeless. If she made some sort of a move against him, there was no way he could be fast enough to react. He probably couldn't hold the gun. Let alone … He closed his eyes at the thought and shuddered involuntarily, pain shooting through his side.

"I'm sorry."

John opened his eyes again and turned to the sorrowful face that watched him in concern. And then he slowly recognised, with growing dread, the lack of inflection on her American-English words.

"Yeah …" She smiled thinly, seeing the confusion in his pale face. "There's something I need to tell you."

* * *

The dim lighting of the emergency generators was hard on his eyes as Scott peered through the seemingly endless corridors of the complex. It had taken a while to try and convince Ustin that they should creep about carefully and that the current situation was extremely dangerous. It was hard enough to tell him that his employers were not completely trustworthy and even harder still in a foreign language. But Ustin had eventually got the idea – mainly thanks to their brief stop at the weapons locker - and he kept safely behind Scott as they made their way back to the centre of the main building.

Voices from within the hive of laboratories told Scott that the guards had finished their search and had evidently decided to either try themselves to turn the machine off or were there to guard it. He didn't fancy the idea of dealing with them whatever the case and sighed in annoyance as he watched the few that were acting as sentries at the door to the machine.

Ustin tapped Scott's shoulder and then urgently signed his eagerness to get on with their objective.

Scott shook his head and put a finger to his lips, watching the scientist throw his hands skyward in exasperation. It amused Scott that some things were just universally obvious and he smiled as he turned back to look at the guarded room, a plan beginning to form in his mind.

And then it happened. With a speed that could only indicate military expertise and the dull squeaking of silenced weapons, the sentries were down and the room surrounded.

They had appeared from almost nowhere. It was impressive to behold but somewhat unnerving for Scott and his overly excitable companion.

"Freeze."

The command was stern and loud. Scott obeyed instantly; relieved as he noticed Ustin doing the same and both of them raised their hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Move!"

Scott turned cautiously, seeing the anonymous black combat gear and heavy weaponry of the man that had expertly crept up on them. The semi-automatic was waved again in an urgent request for them to move towards the centre of the complex and he quickly complied.

"Sir, I've got two civilian personnel." The soldier called out into the complex, his radio of apparently no use because of the EM pulse. "Heading your way now, sir."

There was no reply but suddenly there were more of them in the corridor and filing out from the centre of the complex. Scott's heart was now racing; not only were these guys carrying some serious arsenal but the one herding him and Ustin along the corridor was English. Very English.

There were at least ten of them. All dressed in undistinguishable black and all kitted with an equal share of expensive paraphernalia. Scott watched the few that tracked their approach and was all too aware of the guns pointing straight at them.

"You." One of the other soldiers stepped forward and identified Scott. "Why are you here? Why didn't you evacuate with the others?"

Scott paused in uncertainty. He hadn't quite prepared himself for this.

"Lieutenant!"

The apparent lead soldier glanced back to one of his colleagues and the younger man hurried forward, quickly translating his CO's questions into Kazakh.

"It's okay!" Scott offered quickly, "I'm an American." The soldiers watched him in uncertainty, their body language still showing a formidable alertness. "I … there wasn't room in the trucks. I was hiding in my lab and … I heard the guards come back and - "

"Did you turn that thing on?" The lead soldier demanded.

"No." Scott shrugged and nodded towards a somewhat confused Ustin. "But he can turn it off."

The soldier nodded slowly and turned to look towards the inner room.

"Yes!" Ustin seemed to suddenly catch on. "I turn off for you. No?" He stepped forward warily; smiling broadly in what he hoped conveyed reassurance. "Please. I help you. I turn off machine. Cars come here. We go home. Yes?"

The soldier nodded in agreement and stepped out of Ustin's path. He ordered two of his men to guard the excited scientist and then turned his attention back to Scott.

"So …" Scott decided to chance lowering his now aching arms and smiled thinly. "Who are you guys?"

"Considering my obvious advantage," The soldier replied curtly, glancing down at his armed rifle. "I think I will ask the questions."

"Sure." Scott conceded, his smile fading.

"Well? Who are _you_?"

"I'm …" Scott sighed and figured he may as well take a chance. "I'm undercover. I came here to investigate the place and kinda got caught up in the crossfire. If I could, I would radio in and prove - "

"What?" The soldier's demeanour suddenly relaxed and he lowered his weapon. "CIA or International Rescue?"

"Um … International Rescue."

"Ma'am!" The soldier called up towards the office in the upper level.

Scott looked up as the reply rang out and his heart leapt into his throat. He watched as more military personnel emerged from the office above them and one of them was then galloping down the stairs towards them.

There was no doubting it. The trademark blonde was tucked neatly inside a black woollen beanie but it was her.

Scott gave a soft chuckle of delight and stepped forward, unable to stop the wide grin that spread across his face. "God, I thought I'd never be so pleased to - "

He was silenced by her slamming into him and the sudden and firm grip of her arms about his waist as she forgot all protocol and hugged him tightly.

"Oh thank god!" Penny murmured.

Scott slipped his arms around her and could feel her trembling against him.

"God, I didn't know what to think!" Penny groaned into his chest. "I just …" She gave him a brief, even tighter squeeze and then released her hold. "I am glad you are alright." Penny offered a little more sternly and stepped back from him, straightening her black jumpsuit.

"I'm fine." Scott confirmed, "But Jo – my partner is hurt."

All remnants of Penny's smile left her face. "Where is he?"

"In the medical lab." Scott nodded behind him.

"Janson!" Penny called quickly, one of the men responding instantly and hurrying over to them. "Come with us." She ordered. "Williams, stay here."

The soldier who had once seemed to be the commanding officer, nodded politely. "One of the scientists is attempting deactivation."

"Good." Penny sighed in relief. "Get him whatever he needs."

"Ma'am." Williams affirmed.

Penny turned back to Scott and took his arm. "Let's go."

Scott led her back along the corridor at a quick pace and smiled fondly down at her. "I can't believe you're really here."

"It took some doing, believe me!" Penny chuckled softly. "I've pulled lots of strings and called in my last favours." She shrugged slightly, "I don't like to be in the red when it comes to most of them but … I guess you're worth it."

Scott's smile grew.

"I thought we'd lost you." Penny continued quietly. "When I saw you taken I - " She groaned and shook her head to rid herself of the memory.

"The Hood was here."

"What!" Penny urged.

"He was working with these guys but got in the way and they had him prisoner." Scott smiled sheepishly. "I had no choice but to … Pen, he helped us out and … and I let him go free."

Penny made no reply. She looked down at the floor that rushed beneath their swiftly marching feet and was silent.

Scott regarded her concerned face for a moment and nodded sombrely. "Pen, this whole shit is a hell of a lot more complicated than we thought." He watched her look up at him with intrigue and dread and suddenly he blurted out Eva's revelations into an abridged version of the past few hours.

Penny nodded thoughtfully.

"Don't tell me you knew …!" Scott husked.

"No." Penny took a deep breath and her frown deepened. They paused at the end of the long central corridor and checked the area before turning the corner and continuing their fast pace through the building. "Not for sure. Someone's trying to set us up, that's all I know for certain."

"Pen, the CIA knows all about us!"

"I guessed they might."

Scott groaned in dismay. "And the mole?"

Penny shrugged and sighed heavily. "I don't know. The CIA gained Intel on us when the Hood was taken into custody in London – along with all of his possessions."

"Transom!" Scott exclaimed suddenly.

"Yes. The device she used to gain entry to the Island. I don't know how but the CIA got to it first."

"Shit!"

"Precisely."

Scott then seemed to remember the soldier trailing them and nodded towards him.

"Royal Marines." Penny smiled proudly.

"Wo! _Serious_ favours." Scott enthused and then indicated the next junction and the med lab beyond.

"Only the best for my bo - " Penny gasped as a sudden shot rang through the complex. She looked towards Scott but he was already in flight, racing towards the med lab and the origin of the noise.

_tbc …_


	17. Chapter 17

Despite being sat firmly on the floor, John suddenly felt as though he were falling from a great height. It was more than a little unsettling. And nauseating. And, god, how he did not feel up to vomiting right now. Even breathing was becoming a chore.

"John?" Eva placed her hand on his shoulder and her fingers squeezed gently.

John opened his eyes and moaned a reply.

"I'm so sorry." Eva sighed heavily, "I wanted to tell you but everywhere is bugged and … god … I'm so sorry …"

John turned his head towards her and the world continued it's merry dance about him.

"But I can help you – help your family. I can radio my contact, find out who the traitor is in your organisation, and find out more about who is trying to set your family up."

John frowned slightly.

"Your brother." Eva nodded towards the door and where Scott had departed a short while ago. "His concern makes it kinda obvious."

John nodded.

"They'll turn off the damned EM generator and your guys can come in and we can blow this whole mess wide open." She watched John nod again, a little slower this time and then his eyes closed. "John?" She squeezed his shoulder again, afraid to move him too much but wanting to keep him awake. "Come on. Stay with me."

A small smile pulled at the sides of the oxygen mask and John managed a firmer groan of response.

"That's it. Don't make me out to be a complete failure." Eva offered lightly and saw him regard her in intrigue. "This is my first field assignment." She elaborated and then chuckled softly, "Not that you'd know, right?" Eva shook her head and sighed in dismay. "I wanted to pull out after just a few days but my contact kept me focused. Then that Trangh guy turns up and it all goes wrong."

John frowned at the mention of that name and husked an inaudible expletive.

"I wanted to bug out again then." Eva smiled in amusement, "And then there was that fire and I had the perfect plan. Now I knew you guys could enter this region, I could cause another reason for you to return and you could rescue me."

John smiled in understanding.

"But I was told to stick it out. That I was too much of an investment. That we now had to know what Trangh had to do with these guys and that there was a bigger plan." Eva leaned back against the cabinets and shook her head. "And then I'm told that International Rescue are digging around and either you're involved or you're going to make a move or something. I don't know …" Eva sighed, "Sometimes it all gets lost in the translation."

"Translation?" John echoed quietly.

"Mmm. Coded transmissions."

"Oh god …" John groaned, "Navajo …"

"Yeah." Eva sat up straight and turned towards him. "Why?"

John closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. "We - "

"Shh!" Eva hissed suddenly, raising her hand before him in warning. She was suddenly alert, peering towards the windows above them and then edging carefully towards the doorway.

John slid his hand beneath the folds of his blankets and closed his fingers around the handle of the gun that lay in his lap. He called out to Eva in a husked whisper but was met with another stern signal to be quiet.

Eva slowly got to her feet and listened at the door. After a moment, she leaned her head around the frame and peered carefully into the corridor.

"Mishka!"

John watched in horror as Ballensky appeared in the doorway. His blood-soaked face was filled with delight and he slapped Eva hard on the shoulder in greeting.

"(Sir.)" Eva responded evenly.

"(Come!)" Ballensky urged excitedly, "(I have set the weapon. No one can get near and when it overloads there will be no evidence, no tracing us.)"

"(But -)"

"(I still have the plans, though. We can start again. Come. Trangh waits for me at the border.)" Ballensky took hold of her arm and began to lead her from the room. It was then that he caught sight of the huddled figure in the far corner and he quickly raised the gun he held.

"(No!)" Eva gasped and grabbed his wrist, urging his hand down. "(He is International Rescue. I had to save him. It will look good for us.)"

Ballensky watched John's still form in interest for a moment. "(Fine. Bring him.)" He grunted and headed from the room.

"(No! He cannot be moved.)"

Ballensky turned back to her. "(But the weapon -)"

"(Can be turned off.)" Eva ventured carefully. "(Let his people come. Let them see we looked after him. It will work in our favour.)"

Ballensky frowned in uncertainty. "(But he has seen our faces…)"

"(And we know his.)" Eva offered, "(It is checkmate.)"

Ballensky searched her tired face and his frown grew. "(Why the concern for him, Mishka?)"

"(It's just as I said.)" Mishka shrugged.

"(No. It is something more. We have held prisoners before. But these two … why so much bother?)"

"(Because of who they are. It will be very bad for us if anything should happen to them.)"

"(Why? They are field agents, spies. They are expendable.)" Ballensky shrugged free of her grip and again aimed his gun towards John. "(Missing in action. Caught in the crossfire.)"

"(No!)" Eva stepped in front of the gun, blocking its aim.

Ballensky grinned and nodded slowly. "(I've always had doubts about women in the military. And I've never completely trusted you. I guess I was right on both counts.)"

Eva watched his finger close around the trigger and suddenly recalled from her training the damage that a close range shot could do to even the toughest of Kevlar vests. She stepped forward to make a move, to somehow grab the gun and capture Ballensky. But the shot came before she had barely twitched.

There was an eerie silence after the noise of the blast. Eva's ears were ringing and then, much to her surprise, she realised she was still standing. And was unharmed it seemed. She glanced down at her chest and saw the lack of new damage to her muddy uniform. And then noted the gun slipping from Ballensky's grasp. She looked back up and watched the man himself falling backwards. He landed with a heavy thud and lay suddenly still on the floor.

Confusion bombarded her senses. Eva looked around the empty corridor and then turned back into the room. And sudden understanding shuddered through her, accompanied by the shock of realising that somehow John had not only got hold of a gun but had also miraculously missed her.

A gurgling choke then caught her attention and Eva looked back to the fallen Ballensky. She slumped to her knees and quickly examined Ballensky's neck, noting at once the slowing spurts from the fatal wound and the expanding pupils in his wide-open eyes. "Shit!" Eva hissed in annoyance. "We could have questioned him!" She spun round to look towards John and saw him staring in horror at the crumpled form.

John's arm was trembling as he still held the gun out before him, paused in shock. He then seemed to realise that he was pointing it in Eva's direction and he looked away from the fallen guard to focus on the weapon. With a gasp, he flung the gun away as if it was suddenly burning hot and then slowly looked up at Eva. Reaching a shaky hand up to his face, he pulled the oxygen mask away and frowned in confusion. "I only wanted to stop him."

"I know." Eva nodded and moved away from Ballensky's body. She crawled back towards John, pausing briefly to collect the gun that she then saw was her own.

"Is he …?" John's frown deepened and he glanced back at the altogether too inactive form.

"It's okay." Eva offered softly.

"Oh god." John closed his eyes and hung his head.

"Hey," Eva closed the gap between them hurriedly and placed her hand on his arm. "It's okay."

John was suddenly sobbing and then clutching at his side as the action tore at his injuries. The pain made him panic more and soon he was shaking and gasping.

"Shh …" Eva moved closer to him, gripping him firmly by the shoulders, "It's okay. You were defending me."

"Oh god – oh god – oh god!" John let his head fall back against the cabinets and closed his eyes, tears tumbling down his pale cheeks as he cried.

"It'll be okay." Eva urged quietly.

"No! No - it's not! It's def- definitely - not!" John argued breathlessly. "I've – oh god – I've -"

"Hey!" Eva ordered, "Listen to me. You had no choice."

"But I – I didn't – didn't have to – oh god!" John was sobbing uncontrollably now but becoming rapidly and worryingly weaker. "Oh god – I can't – I can't breathe!"

"John!" Eva placed her hands on either side of his face and forced him to look at her. "Stop this! Calm down." She commanded sternly. "Come on. Breathe …" She closed her eyes and sighed in concern, trying to quickly think of some way to help him. "Patterns!" Eva smiled suddenly, "Remember patterns? Prime numbers?"

"I – um – oh god – I …" John grimaced and arched his neck, fighting to catch his breath.

"Seven." Eva offered.

"Seven? Um … Seven?"

"Yeah, seven days, seven wonders, seven sins, seven samurai …" Eva looked back at him and watched his face relax slowly as he forced his mind away from panic and pain.

"Nitrogen." John husked after a moment.

"Huh?"

"Nitrogen." John repeated, wincing but, at last, beginning to calm slightly. "Atomic – atomic number … seven."

"Oh. Okay."

"The number – number of objects – objects of the – the solar system vis - visible to – to the naked eye."

"Good." Eva soothed, "What else?"

John suddenly smiled, the action brightening his features for the briefest of seconds. "Messier object M7…" He closed his eyes and leaned forward, his forehead resting against Eva's as he slowly regained his composure and lowered his voice to a gentler whisper. "A magnitude 3.5 cluster … in the constellation Scorpius …"

"Okay, now you're getting freaky." Eva chuckled softly.

John moaned a quiet response.

"JOHN!"

Eva and John both jumped, startled by the sudden shout. They turned towards the door and watched as Scott came to an abrupt halt before the fallen guard. He paused a moment to grimace at the sight and then clambered into the room, quickly followed by two black-clad personnel.

"John!" Scott fell to his knees beside his brother, noting the heaviness of his brother's eyes and the way Eva seemed to be supporting his head. "Hurry!" He glanced up at his companions and then moved aside so the medic could get near.

Penny crouched down beside the body of the guard and frowned in interest at the logo on his uniform.

Scott looked away as the medic lifted John's shirt and the damage was once again revealed to him. He watched Penny examining Ballensky and shuddered as he recalled the torture and also the sight of the man apparently not having his brain fried. "He was the head guy."

"I didn't mean it to be so accurate a shot." Eva added quietly, noticing but ignoring the gentle moan of protest from John.

Scott turned to Eva, a chill running through him as he watched her flicking the safety catch of the gun she held. He then noted that she was carefully wiping one cuff of her jacket over every inch of the weapon and his heart sank. He glanced at John and suddenly he saw it all; the way she had been talking to John, the way she had held him, the tears that stained his brother's cheeks. Scott added it all up and suddenly felt ill.

"It's my gun." Eva offered quietly, "There'll be no questions."

Scott swallowed back the bile in his throat and turned his attention back to his brother, watching him grimace in protest as the medic assessed his injuries.

"Ballensky did give us something interesting, though." Eva smiled thinly as she holstered her weapon. "He's due to meet Trangh at the border."

Scott gasped and spun to look back at Penny, noting at once the suspicious glance that Penny was offering Eva. He had filled her in and she had said she could well understand his doubts but there was no longer any time for second-guessing-games. He shrugged and nodded towards Eva. "This is Agent Eva Miller. CIA."

Penny stood and wandered over to them, offering Eva an outstretched hand. "Gayle Williams, British Secret Service."

Eva shook her hand and smiled warmly. "I take it you landed safely."

"Before the weapon was activated, thankfully." Penny confirmed. "Although now I fear we are all but stranded."

Eva nodded. "Ustin will do his stuff and then International Rescue can get us out of here."

Penny smiled and turned to watch the medic examining John. "Well, Janson?"

"Whoever's coming, they'd better make it quick." Janson replied, checking again John's blood pressure reading and sighing in dismay. "I can't do much more for him here. He needs a hospital. And soon."

As if to emphasise the point, John's head lolled sideways and he slumped against the cabinets. Scott hurried forward and helped Janson carefully lay John on his uninjured side. John was pale and unresponsive; the only sign of life the thin wisps of shallow breath that clouded the inside of the oxygen mask.

His eyes brimming with tears, Scott gently held John's head to keep his airway open and watched the medic preparing intubation equipment in anticipation of the worst. Scott swallowed hard and glanced at Penny, receiving in reply a thin smile that offered little comfort.

_tbc …_


	18. Chapter 18

It was a sight that never failed to fill him with pride and awe. But today there was something so very poignant about the vision in green that descended through the low clouds of the early afternoon.

Ustin had come flying back to the doctor's office just ten minutes before, babbling in Kazakh the news that somehow needed no translation. The EM weapon was off. Thunderbird 2 could approach. But with no way of contacting them, they had simply had to wait for the fading energy signature to be detected. And it had seemed an age before the familiar rumble of the powerful craft heralded her low pass in preparation to land.

And it really was her. No strange shimmering or unusual missile ports. Just the immense green form of hope at last.

Scott shielded his eyes with his arm as the VTOL thrusters fired up and sent dust and debris spiralling through the air. He then heard the low whine of the landing gear being deployed and the soft thud of ground contact.

The warning claxon rang out through the complex as the cargo bay door opened and Scott hurried forward. Clothed in trademark green and white, the figure waiting impatiently within then burst forth before the metal ramp had even settled.

Suddenly overcome with relief and exhaustion, Scott waited near the foot of the still descending ramp and felt his throat tighten. He closed his eyes as he was suddenly then met with the full force of the man hurtling down the ramp, both of them almost toppling over.

"Oh god!" Jeff threw his arms around Scott and clutched him against him.

Scott held onto his father and felt the sting of tears welling as the man trembled against him.

"What the HELL were you thinking!" Jeff was suddenly stepping back from him, holding him firmly by the shoulders and glaring at him in fury, pain sparkling in his shadowed eyes.

Scott could only offer a nod of understanding.

"Oh god, Scott!" Jeff glanced up and down his son's dirty, weary body and his anger faded. He clutched him close once more and groaned softly.

Footfalls on the metal ramp caught Scott's attention and he looked up, seeing his brothers watching the embrace in concern and apprehension as they approached.

"John." Scott managed huskily, suddenly pushing his father back from him. "Hurry!"

Jeff frowned in confusion but the urgency in his son's voice was enough. He fell into a quick sprint behind Scott, beckoning Gordon and Virgil to follow and they hurried inside the complex.

So this was the all but motionless tracking beacon that Alan had been monitoring. Jeff halted outside the med lab, seeing the pale form that lay amid those trying to revive him. His eyes then took in the scene; the bloodied body slumped inside the doorway, the black-clad military personnel and the one he assumed to be a native guard. He was then drawn back to the ashen face of his son, his heart sinking as he watched the medic arch his casualty's head back and gently slide the metal blade of a laryngoscope into his mouth.

"Jeff …"

Jeff could not look away. He heard his sons groaning in dismay, was aware of Virgil and Gordon hurrying to support Scott, saw her stand and begin to approach him.

"Jeff …?"

She stepped into his view and crouched slightly to meet his gaze. When he then turned his head to look at her, she smiled thinly and offered a nod of reassurance.

"What - " Jeff cleared his dry throat and his frown deepened. "What the hell happened?"

"He has internal bleeding." Penny answered softly.

Jeff's world was suddenly spinning around him. He closed his eyes and her continued explanation faded into the dizzy ringing in his ears. She was saying something about convulsions and sedation and best options but none of it sank in.

"Jeff?" Penny urged worriedly, placing a hand on his arm.

Jeff opened his eyes and managed a nod in response. "Who did this?" He husked.

"I did."

The reply came from Scott and it could make no sense. Jeff turned to look at him, saw him transfixed on the resuscitation before them.

"I kept telling them he was a civilian. Not a Thunderbird." Scott continued quietly, watching the medic secure the ET tube and continue to squeeze air into his brother's limp form. "I thought I was protecting him."

Janson looked up towards Penny and frowned in concern. "Ma'am. We need to organise a Med Evac. Can you attempt contact - "

"No!" Gordon urged quickly, "We'll handle this. Virg!" He grabbed his brother by the arm and they headed back out of the building.

"He … he seemed okay at first." Scott resumed in a husked whisper.

Jeff tore his eyes from the sight of his second eldest once again seemingly slipping away from him. And just like before he could think of nothing other than what the hell would he do without his sounding board, his confidante. The one precious remaining piece of Lucy.

Scott suddenly felt the weight of the past god-knows-how-long pressing down onto his shoulders. He staggered backwards, almost losing his footing. And then a pair of strong arms were about his waist and he clung to them gratefully.

"I've got you." Jeff offered softly.

Scott nodded and let his head rest against his father's shoulder. The world spun around him giddily and he closed his eyes. He listened as distant voices made plans to secure the complex and await further reinforcements.

"Jeff." Penny urged carefully, "You ought to leave. We can take it from here. You should go in case more guards return, bringing Spooks or KGB or goodness knows who else with them."

Jeff mumbled an affirmative.

Scott was then aware of his younger brothers returning with a stretcher and listened as they carefully lifted John from the room. Janson, the medic, insisted on going with them and no one made any attempt to argue. Any help for John was most welcome.

"Scott." Jeff squeezed his son gently, "We should go."

Scott stood up straight, his legs weary beneath him but thankfully still working. He watched Penny and Eva head from the room, talking sombrely together. They nodded as they spoke and then Scott's heart sank as Eva said the words that he had been secretly praying would not be mentioned here.

"What … ?" Jeff breathed.

Scott looked up into his fathers face and understood all too well the pain and anger that rested there.

"What did she just say?" Jeff urged louder, stepping towards the two women.

Penny's shoulders fell and she nodded slowly. "Trangh." She confirmed quietly. "Trangh Belagant."

oooo

There was no stopping him. And something told Scott that perhaps they shouldn't even try. He climbed aboard Thunderbird 2 and felt numb as he sank to the floor beside the firmly secured stretcher that held his brother's pale form.

Scott's body was drained and his mind foggy as he tried to keep out of the way of Virgil and Gordon, rigging John up to all kinds of monitoring and stabilizing equipment. And it was all so horribly familiar. With the exception that this time John wasn't making brave jokes and smiling in weak reassurance in the back of a London Ambulance. The courage that had kept him going aboard the mortally wounded Five and somehow on his feet for most of the clear up in London was not there to reassure Scott. And it was painfully obvious.

"Jeff, no!" Penny shouted again from the adjacent cockpit.

"Why doesn't she give up?" Virgil wondered aloud, satisfied that there wasn't a single piece of equipment not being somehow used to either help or observe his unconscious brother.

Gordon glanced through the open door and shook his head in dismay. "He needs to let it go …"

"All I know is that _we_ need to _go_!" Janson countered and glanced up briefly at his assistants, his focus maintained on the steady rhythm of inflations he was squeezing into the ambubag.

"Yeah …" Virgil sighed and turned to watch Scott sagging heavily against the side of the stretcher. "Guess I'll go tell 'em that …"

Penny was standing beside the seated Jeff, her face flushed and her hands sat firmly on her hips. She shook her head and rolled her eyes in exasperation. "You have a son in there who needs to get to a hospital!" She flicked a pointed finger towards the cargo hold beyond, "And you are chancing his life for the sake of some bloody stupid vendetta!"

Jeff was silent.

Penny groaned and then caught sight of Virgil entering behind them. "Talk some sense into him, Virgil? Please?"

Virgil shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable with the notion that he was being asked to chastise his all too often intimidating father.

"Thunderbird Five to Thunderbird Two?"

The three of them paused as Alan's voice came over the comm.

"Go ahead." Jeff responded quickly.

"I've got a heat signature 4.7 miles North-North-East of your position, one jeep-sized vehicle and one occupant. The forest is too dense for a clear image but it's not moving and it's alone."

Jeff nodded thoughtfully. "And it's on the border."

"Yup. Sending co-ordinates now."

"And Brains?"

"En route. ETA 23 mins."

Jeff nodded again, rubbing a hand up over his forehead and back across his close-cut hair. "Thanks, Alan."

Virgil watched Penny throw her hands into the air in frustration and then turned back to his father. "Dad …" He began carefully.

Jeff took a deep breath and stood from the pilot seat. He offered Virgil a thin smile and ignored Penny's angered glare. "Get John to London."

Penny gasped slightly, "Moscow is - "

"London's the closest place that I can trust!" Jeff countered, his annoyance at once more being second-guessed obvious and his smile quickly fading, "And besides … they've treated him before so …" He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "I'll wait here. Make sure The Hood is caught."

"But - " Penny's protest was silenced by Jeff's raised hand.

"Brains and I will be in contact." Jeff concluded sternly.

Virgil nodded - in understanding if not agreement - and retreated to the corner of the cargo bay that posed as a med lab and informed his passengers.

Jeff waited for his son to be out of earshot and then turned to Penny. "I have to do this."

Penny regarded him in silence.

"I have to know that he's finally secured. Gone. For good."

Penny frowned gently and shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. "I wish I could believe you, Jeff."

Jeff looked into her flushed face and made no reply.

"I understand … really I do …"

Jeff nodded and turned away from her.

"But … for the sake of your sons," Penny called after him softly, "You cannot be the one to pull the trigger."

_tbc …_


	19. Chapter 19

It was a little after seven in London and the busy flow of mid-week commuter traffic had already begun to pulse through the brightening streets. The clearing sky, still heavy with the passing drizzle of the dawn, held only the thinnest of clouds, giving everyone within view the unmistakable sight of Thunderbird 2 descending low over the Thames.

The appropriate calls had been made to forewarn the approach of the craft, as much to prepare the hospital for their arrival as to dispel any chance of them causing the panic that had followed their last 'visit' to this city. Nevertheless, traffic screeched to a halt along both sides of the river and pedestrians paused in open-mouthed awe as Thunderbird 2 glided effortlessly down-river, passing over Lambeth Bridge and heading ominously close to the political centre of the capital. But then she banked right and came to a halt, hovering over the centuries old outer shell of the newly refurbished St Thomas' Hospital.

The rescue platform lowered, delivering its weary cargo to the waiting trauma team on the lawn opposite the A&E entrance. And then she was gone. As quick as she had appeared, the immense green craft retreated high up into the morning sky and allowed the city to continue about its business.

The momentary pause caused by the spectacle was followed by the hushed murmurs of those who had gathered in the streets to watch and then soon they were back on course and talking excitedly as they continued towards their workplaces.

In front of the hospital, a hurried plan of action was being discussed among the trauma team as they assessed the casualty, simultaneously wheeling him fast towards the open doors of the Emergency Department and ushering his companion alongside. This time there was much more of an understanding among the staff that no names would be given and details of the 'incident' had been kept to a minimum as the anonymous medic had made his hasty report and handed care over to them.

Unable to reveal the truth of his concern but refusing to leave John's side for a moment, Scott simply stated that he was family and his insistence received a little more empathy. The somewhat dishevelled Trauma Consultant gave Scott a pensive glance and a small smile of reassurance. He knew who John was. He had recognised his face and he had seen the insignia on the damaged uniform the last time he had treated this particular patient. But he could be trusted. And that was why Penny had urgently woken him.

But when John was taken to the operating theatre a short while later, Scott could no longer remain with him. He was led through to a small waiting room nearby, the nurse offering him both a drink and some of her precious time.

Scott politely declined all that the nurse offered and managed a small smile as he sat down on the narrow but thankfully comfortable sofa. She retreated hesitantly, reminding him that he could borrow their phone or get refreshments if he so needed and that she would return with news as soon as she received any.

"Thank you." Scott nodded and relaxed back amid the soft cushions, his tiredness completely overwhelming him.

The door closed and Scott was left alone with the chaos of his thoughts. He glanced at the watch that Virgil had hastily strapped onto his wrist and a frown hooded his eyes; he ought to call in but there was nothing more to say. And they would contact him if there were any news from elsewhere.

Elsewhere. God. He had seen the look on his father's face before they had left him at the complex with Penny. It had made him shudder and had the same effect as he recalled it now. But he didn't want to think about what his father might be doing right then. He didn't want to think about anything. He closed his eyes and fell into shallow, disturbed slumber.

The knock on the door about 20 minutes later woke him with a start, his body trembling with sudden adrenaline. He calmed but a little as the nurse returned to the room and offered him a warm smile.

"There's someone here to see you." She explained softly, placing a steaming mug of tea on the table before him and then glancing back at her companion.

Scott nodded in thanks and a small smile of amusement pulled at his dry lips; what _was_ it with the Brits and their damned tea? Even Penny and Parker could give no explanation, despite their own cultural addiction to the stuff. His smile was then quick to fade as he looked up and saw the trademark black and white uniform of the officer that stepped further into the room.

Of course. It was to be expected that some sort of explanation, to be filed in one report or another, would be required. Scott watched the nurse close the door after her departing figure and then turned to the police officer. And his heart thudded against his chest as he suddenly recognised the woman who was regarding him in concern.

"Hello." She offered quietly.

"Alex?" Scott's smile returned, delighted to see a familiar face. "What are you - " He halted, answering his own question in his mind as her apparel made it suddenly obvious.

"We got the call and I was in the area." Alex explained anyway, "It's procedure now for us to swing by and check on things." She smiled suddenly, "Especially as the grass in Jubilee Gardens has only just been reseeded."

Scott's grubby, tired features seemed unamused and he held her gaze in silence.

"What is it …?" Alex asked timidly, suddenly wondering why he had remained and why he was in civilian – and somewhat battered – clothing. John had said they were going to spend some precious downtime on a little vacation but –

"It's John." Scott husked.

Alex took a moment to absorb his words, a small frown developing as she crossed the room and sat down on the sofa beside Scott.

Scott swallowed back the sudden lump in his throat and looked down at his hands.

"How bad?" Alex asked after a moment, the question seeming suddenly foolish when the look on Scott's face told all. "I mean … can you tell me …?"

Scott shook his head. So she knew all about them and had shared in the trauma of their last visit to her country. It was just that he simply couldn't find the words right now.

Alex watched the emotion gather on Scott's flushed face and tears stung her eyes as she reached out and placed her hand on his arm. His reaction startled her and she gasped a little as suddenly he had turned and thrown his arms around her.

Scott rested his face against the non-too-comfortable Kevlar padding of her protective vest and hugged her tightly. Knowing what she meant to John and knowing that she understood what their lives were about made it seem right to turn to her. And he found something of the reassurance and comfort that he sought as she slipped her arms around him and also began to gently cry.

"I'm sorry." Scott husked after a few minutes.

Alex frowned in confusion, unsure of the meaning of his whispered apology. They slowly moved back from each other and Alex groaned inwardly, disturbed by the pain that troubled his grubby face. All she had known of John's older brother was the tall, brash, confident cliché of an American that she had once been presented with. This new version was more than a little disturbing. And suddenly she was torn between wanting to comfort him and needing to get away from the scary reality in his tired eyes.

"What …" Alex swallowed hard and placed her hand on Scott's shoulder. "What's happened …?"

Scott turned to meet her concerned expression and took a deep breath. And suddenly he poured it all out. Their discovery of the complex, the coded transmissions, their stupid decision to go back there, their capture and all that had then been revealed. It seemed too incredible to be real and Scott frowned as the tale hung in the air around them.

"Holy crap …" Alex hissed in wonder.

Scott nodded in agreement.

"And …" Alex hardly dared ask, "John …?"

"He's in surgery." Scott answered quietly. "And … shit, I really don't know." Fresh tears gathered and he hung his head with a sigh.

Alex closed her eyes and rested her hand on Scott's arm as they sat together in silence.

It was a few minutes later, when the gentle whisper of transmission buzzed through her all but muted radio, that Scott suddenly realised his opportunity. He sat up straight and wiped his face on his sleeve. "I need your help!"

"Of course." Alex shrugged.

"I need the police reports and intelligence gathered from when The Hood was arrested at the Bank of London."

Alex frowned slightly. "Why … ?"

"Someone's setting up my family. Someone with inside information." Scott continued hastily, "I need to know who and where their source is."

"Alright," Alex nodded, "But how - "

"Can you get it?"

"I can try."

Scott sighed gratefully and a small smile brightened his face a little. "Thanks."

"I'll need to go back to the station." Alex ventured.

"I have to stay here." Scott nodded sombrely, "But …" He lifted his wrist and pressed a small button on the side of his seemingly average designer wristwatch. "Alan?"

"Scott!" The tinny response was immediate and loud. "Any news?"

"No. Sorry buddy … Listen, I need a favour." He shot Alex a small smile and continued, "John has a digital frequency secured on one of his personal files …"

Scott held out his wrist towards Alex in a request for her to speak and she instinctively lifted one hand to touch the radio pinned to her shoulder. She nodded in understanding and recited the frequency code.

"Got it." Alan announced after a moment.

"Good." Scott smiled, "Link us up would ya?"

"Sure." Came Alan's distant reply, "Alex, huh?"

"Yeah." Scott affirmed.

"Hello." Alex offered.

"Has Penny called in?" Scott then queried.

"Not for a while." Alan answered, sighing loudly, "Hey, whatever you guys are gonna do, be careful. Okay?" Another worried sigh. "I've got a really bad feeling about all this."

"You and me both, Sprout." Scott husked, "You and me both."

* * *

The return to the station had been awkward. Alex's partner, Tom, had been none too pleased at her sudden diversion to the hospital that morning and was now receiving no answers as to why they were rushing back. Her plea for him to simply trust her had made him even more concerned. Neither of them had any idea that her intuitive decision to not risk him getting involved was more than a little accurate.

There was nothing. Alex searched again through the files on the central database and came up empty. There were various reports of International Rescue's assistance in an incident involving faulty monorail infrastructure back in February and a separate attempted robbery at the Bank of London but no mention of any maniacal Hood involvement. She also read through details of a police helicopter experiencing a technical malfunction and creating havoc with an emergency landing on a motorway south of the city and the help provided by the Thunderbirds. But once again no Hood.

Alex stared at the screen in confusion and more than a little panic. There was no trace of him. Even the name 'Trangh Belagant' gave no results.

Thinking that perhaps the networked files had been protected in order to provide anonymity to those that requested it, Alex stood and hurried over to the bank of tall filing cabinets that lined one side of the room. There must be a hard copy of the local files and she headed first for the alphabetised sections and then the chronological files.

Nothing.

"What are you looking for?"

Alex gasped and spun round, knocking the corner of a file drawer with her hip and slamming it shut.

Detective Superintendent Pryce could not help but smile at the obvious surprise and guilt on her flushed face.

"I …" Alex shrugged, quickly regaining her composure and offering him a brief smile. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" Pryce chuckled, "I can't be of much help with 'nothing' …"

Alex watched his smile fade and her heart was racing.

Pryce glanced into the relatively quiet corridor behind them and closed the door. He stepped further into the room and raised a hand to quieten the anxiety he could see building in her eyes. "I already spoke to her this morning, Alex. I assured her there's nothing left. It's all been erased."

Alex swallowed hard, unable to respond coherently right at that moment.

"I know, Alex." Pryce continued softly, "I know all about your involvement with them."

Alex shook her head in uncertainty, "_Them_?"

Pryce nodded, "I knew they had recruited someone else here but, for security, I never knew who until … Look …" Pryce sighed suddenly, "I can understand that you're in way over your head here but I want to help you. I can continue to hide your part in all this but only if you let me in."

"I … I don't understand … sir." Alex managed, suddenly deciding to lead the conversation rather than revealing all her cards right now.

Pryce smiled again, a mixture of genuine affection and empathy. "This is serious, Alex. Changing files, tampering with evidence, falsifying official documents …"

Oh crap, Alex groaned inwardly. He knew she had changed her statement?

"But … I'm guessing you had no choice … they forced you, blackmailed you somehow … No?"

No, Alex wanted to reply. Penny and John and the rest of them would never do something like –

"Damned Spooks …" Pryce sighed.

Now Alex was at a complete loss. She held her breath and prayed that he would elaborate.

"I can't believe they've caught you up in all this. You weren't even there. I mean, I can understand the interrogation and threats that the officers who were on the scene have received but you …" He regarded her in concern and suddenly with more than a hint of suspicion. "Why you …?"

Alex thought back to what Scott had said and suddenly felt dizzy. And then the Super's words came back to her. She swallowed hard and decided to play along. "What did 'she' say?"

"Phase Two has failed. Phase Three has been initiated."

Alex nodded slowly.

"She's gone to Kazakhstan to retrieve the 'investment'. She said to await further instructions."

Alex nodded again, trying to convey a convincing impression of understanding when inside she was completely lost in a giddy chaos of confusion and fear. She took a deep breath and then an idea came to her mind. "And … do you … sir … do you think we're doing the right thing?"

"It's not for me to decide." Pryce shrugged.

"Maybe … but not all orders make sense …" Alex prompted.

Pryce sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. "I don't know … I mean, I was impressed when I first saw them … caught up in the whirlwind of excitement that they left behind them each time they …" He sighed again and his shoulders sank heavily. "It's a shame their efforts have to be eliminated …"

Alex's heart slammed against her chest. There was something very terrifying about his use of that word. And Scott's theory that someone must be after his family seemed suddenly very plausible. But not the crazed lunatic that had been at the forefront of it all. He must have been a smokescreen.

"But she does have a point," Pryce continued, "There is this sense that it is all too good too be true … and where does all the technology come from? … And who is funding them?" He smiled and shrugged slightly; "I guess we should know better by now that it's never a good thing when an organisation includes the word 'secret' in its bio."

"No." Alex offered quietly.

"I don't know …" Pryce perched on the desk beside him and sighed again. "Spies and conspiracies and secrets … it's all too much bother …"

Alex watched him relaxing and smiling fondly at her. He was, as she had always suspected, one of the old stock, a genuine good guy. Caught up in the chaotic schemes of some very bad people. But which ones were the bad people was suddenly a total mystery. And more than a little concerning.

"They do get all the best toys though." Pryce observed in amusement. "Did you see that pink limousine of hers?"

And that was enough. Suddenly feeling the world being ripped out from under her and in desperate need of some fresh air, Alex made her quick (and hopefully realistic) excuses and left the office as calmly as she could.

Once safely away from Pryce, she broke into a run and fled from the station. Tom gasped in surprise and concern as she scrambled into the waiting patrol car and flung it into gear. Ignoring his protests, she turned sharply out onto the busy road and flicked on the lights and sirens as she ignored the red light and dove through the traffic.

Alex grabbed the radio at her shoulder and, using the call sign he had given her, she hailed Scott. But words escaped her as she heard his reply and she let go of the handset, suddenly at a complete loss as to how to tell him the god-awful truth about Penny.

_tbc …_


	20. Chapter 20

Brains stood still in the centre if the immense laboratory and suddenly found he could not quite catch his breath.

It was everything. Pieces of half-complete equipment and endless files of theory and invention. Everything he had ever tinkered with.

Some of the patented items he could sort of account for; he knew that various government agencies monitored the ideas that were put forward. And copyright laws meant nothing to those that simply had the power to steal the best tools for the task.

And the presence of technology that he and Jeff had designed together was not a great surprise. They took the risk of encountering corporate espionage with each delivery that they requested. Despite the checks and double checks and dummy companies, the probability that someone somewhere would piece it all together had been ever present, no matter how small. Even with a one in a trillion chance, the existence of the one could never be ignored.

But it was the other articles that bothered him more. The notions that occurred to him deep into the twilight hours, inspiration that he would scribble down and contemplate later. Thoughts that he had assumed safe on his triple fire walled, non-networked laptop.

Brains sat down heavily on a soft office chair and hung his head. Aware of his guide quickly returning to him and watching him in concern, Brains tried to think of a suitable excuse for his dejected demeanour but the shock of his discovery had interfered with his usually lightning fast thought processes and he had to concentrate on the translation.

"I …" Ustin sighed loudly. "I … comprehend."

Brains looked up at the scientist and frowned in intrigue. He liked this guy. Ustin was older than him but there was a welcome familiarity about the man's energy and enthusiasm. And his animated tour of the facility had been conducted with pride and delight in finding a similar intellect. His disappointment now that Brains was seemingly so upset was obvious.

"(Please.)" Brains waved a hand dismissively, his distress robbing him of all patience. "(Russian is fine.)"

Ustin nodded in understanding. The American's somewhat limited knowledge of his language was still far superior than his of English and he shrugged in agreement, despite desperately wanting to be of better help to reassure his new friend. He pulled a chair close to the professor and sat down slowly. "(I thought we were designing a marvellous future.)" Ustin offered after a moment. "(But they turned our creations into weapons.)"

_Your _creations! Brains exclaimed inwardly.

"(Perhaps we were wrong to stop the destruction of this place.)" Ustin shrugged, "(I can reset the EM generator. Level all of it to the ground.)"

Brains' first instinct – "Absolutely!" – was soon replaced by a strong desire to use the stolen plans and materials to trace back to whoever had done this. They could sniff out the thieves and make them pay. It disturbed him a little that dwelling on such a notion was becoming pleasurable but the shrill song emanating from the comm. device that hung about his neck then interrupted his thoughts. He lifted it and frowned at the caller ID before then allowing the transmission to connect.

"Brains!" Scott urged hurriedly, "Where's Penny!"

* * *

Jeff peered nervously through the densely packed trunks of the pine forest and continued carefully forwards, aware of Penny close at his heels. There was enough light to see clearly about 100 metres ahead of them but that held its own hazard; they would be able to see him but he would also have a clear view of them. 

Especially thanks to the bright reflection of them mainly white uniform Jeff wore. He had heeded the advice of one of the marines and smeared on as much mud as would hold on the bright material but he still felt like an oddly stupid and very obvious target.

And that had then become the plan. He would provide distraction and the team could advance from another angle. If the Hood was as single-minded as Jeff recalled then it ought to work like a charm.

His initial jog across the fair distance from the complex had slowed to a more cautious pace now that he was reaching the co-ordinates and Jeff forced his hard breathing to slow. No point in giving his quarry all of the advantage.

And suddenly there it was. A military jeep just as Alan had described, nestled off of a narrow, muddy road. And one apparent occupant.

Jeff scratched at the small device that had been 'glued' to his forehead and sighed in annoyance; he still wasn't totally convinced that the thing really worked and the itch it caused his sweaty skin was becoming maddening. But, he conceded, it must be of some use as he had now advanced within 20 metres of the jeep. And his heart pounded in his ears as he saw the familiar figure sat inside.

Glancing back at Penny, Jeff nodded grimly. He watched her grip the handle of the semi-automatic rifle she held and saw the determination in her eyes. She then looked away from him, peering into the forest and giving a quick signal to the marksmen who were expertly invisible amid the trees.

The snapping of twigs underfoot betrayed their presence about ten metres out from the jeep and Jeff froze mid-step as the occupant turned and saw him.

With a small smile and a slight shrug of acceptance, the man opened the door and began to climb slowly out of the vehicle.

"Halt!" Penny ordered angrily, raising her rifle and gripping it so hard that her fingers hurt. But she recalled all too well how easily this man could use the tiniest opportunity to his advantage.

The Hood's smile grew and he raised his hands in a gesture of calm. "Hello again." He offered casually.

"That's far enough!" Penny urged.

"Oh there's no need for the amateur dramatics." The Hood chuckled in amusement. "After all, I did look after your boys for you."

Jeff growled in fury and lunged forward, assuming the man's words to be some sort of sick joke. He then gasped as he slammed into an invisible wall just in front of The Hood and he found himself completely stuck, trapped in mid-air.

"Maybe I can't get in here …" The Hood tapped at his temple and smiled merrily, "But that wonderful little gadget of theirs doesn't stop all of my power."

And with a flick of his wrist, no amount of strength or determination could keep the gun in Penny's grasp and she yelped in pain as it was dragged free.

Jeff held The Hood's gaze and suddenly smiled in delight. Their plan was working perfectly.

The Hood's face fell as he was then aware of those that were approaching from the other side of the road and he frowned in annoyance.

"Your accomplice is dead." Jeff began sternly. "You're alone." And suddenly he was free of the invisible grip and staggered back a few steps to keep his balance.

"Really." The Hood retorted icily.

Jeff's smile grew and he retreated further, allowing the marines to surround the jeep and the prey stood beside it. "You lose."

The Hood's smile returned and was unwavering as he glanced round at the marines and saw them effectively enclosing him. His grin then suddenly spread and he sighed in sympathy as he turned back to Jeff.

"What?" Jeff urged in annoyance, nodding towards the group of marines. "You think you can stop them all?"

"No." The Hood replied coolly, "I don't have to."

Penny gasped as a gentle thud behind her betrayed the sudden presence of a small device that had landed amid the trees. She turned and watched in horror as the small black cylinder tumbled through the dead pine needles and came to a stop at the base of one of the trees. "Jeff …?" Penny looked back and saw him watching the device with equal fear.

They both made the instant decision to put as much distance between them and the ominous black object. With a shout of warning to the marines, they lurched away from the device and gasped as it suddenly erupted into thick smoke.

Another thud on the other side of the jeep and then two more at it's rear and within seconds the panicked group were engulfed in a thick white cloud. Jeff closed his eyes and covered his mouth but it was too late. He stumbled and fell to his knees, coughing and gagging as the acrid, stinging gas engulfed them.

Jeff could hear Penny close by and was aware of her also tumbling to the ground. Muffled cries of pain and panic made their way through the dense cloud. Jeff could do nothing but clutch at his burning face and force air through his tightening throat. And then suddenly, amidst the chaos, someone opened fire.

* * *

Eva was deep in conversation with two of the marines who had remained to help secure the site. She nodded as she listened to their instructions and tried again to establish a connection with her handler via the still working VHF radio. 

The first she knew of the quiet approach of the scientist entering the room behind her was the sudden pain in her shoulder. She spun and clutched at her arm, glaring at him in shock and annoyance. "What the f - "

"N-n-nanites." Brains replied evenly, holding up the now empty syringe and shrugging slightly.

"_What_!" Eva snapped angrily.

"Nanites." Brains repeated, "Ingenious little th-th-th-critters." He smiled slightly and reached into the pocket of his jacket and lifting out a small black device. "They were designed for medical tr-tr-tr-diagnostics." He frowned and shook his head. "Never imagined some cr-cr-cr-lunatic would use them as a weapon." He glanced warily at the marines, seeing their initial suspicion fade as they recognised his authority and remembered their orders. They nodded in understanding and made their quick exit from the room.

Eva stared at him in open-mouthed horror.

"You see," Brains continued, "They can work their harmless little way to any or-or-or-body part. And once there … well …"

Eva rubbed at her throbbing shoulder and swallowed hard.

"Now." Brains smiled thinly and gave another apologetic shrug. "Who are you?"

Eva groaned in annoyance, "I'm CIA, you crazy motherf - "

"_Any_ body part." Brains echoed calmly, gripping the small remote tightly in his hand (a hand that he hoped she couldn't see was trembling with fear).

"For god's sake!" Eva shouted in frustration (and more than a touch of terror). "I'm telling you the truth! God! What _is _it with you guys? I mean, there's paranoia and then -"

"Who's trying to destroy us?" Brains continued quickly, hoping to resolve this situation before his nerve turned tail and ran.

"I don't know." Eva sighed, "It's only dawned on me since talking with Scott and John. Really. I mean, that Trangh guy was pretty pissed at you all but there's been no other mention of any 'plot'." She watched his hand warily, seeing his fingers hovering over the controls. "Honestly. I was posted here to monitor the weapons technology. Nothing more."

Brains nodded slowly, considering her words. He then reached into another pocket and took out his comm. device. "Well?"

"99.9 per cent sure she's not lying." Came the tinny reply over the speakerphone.

"Because I'm _not_!" Eva urged.

"No stress, pitch or tone characteristics." The voice from the phone continued. "Other than she's somewhat pissed."

"What?" Eva gasped, "Wouldn't you be! I mean, for f - "

"Thanks, Thunderbird 5." Brains smiled and closed the comm. connection. He dropped the phone back into his pocket and held up his hands in a gesture of calm. "Sorry."

Eva frowned at him warily.

"We … umm … we had to be sure."

"_Sure_?" Eva demanded.

Brains nodded. "It seems we're in a bit of a fix." His smile faded and a frown creased his glistening forehead. "And we've no id-id-id-clue who we can trust." He sighed heavily, "Even people who we thought of as friends …"

Eva watched the concern fill his face and gingerly stepped towards him. "What's happened?"

"We've been betrayed." Brains replied quietly. "And I need to as-as-as-request something of you."

"Sure." Eva nodded. "Soon as you turn your nano-whatsit-buddies off."

Brains' smile returned momentarily. "They're not on yet." He watched the suspicion in her eyes and shrugged another apology. "They won't do any harm." He held up the device in his hand and showed her the familiar buttons of a television remote.

Eva laughed suddenly and shook her head in disbelief. "Good call, Professor!"

Brains nodded gratefully and tossed the remote onto the counter.

Eva rubbed again at her arm and watched the sadness return to his pale face. "So. What's the favour?"

Brains took a deep breath and his frown deepened. "How many gu-gu-weapons do you have?"

* * *

Scott had not realised quite how hungry he was until he took a bite of the sandwich Alex insisted on fetching for him. He sipped at his Coke and took small mouthfuls of food, feeling his butterfly-filled stomach lurching as the sustenance arrived. 

"We'll sort this out." Alex urged softly, watching him in concern. "But you're no good to anyone in that state."

Scott smiled sheepishly between mouthfuls, aware of his hands beginning to cease their exhausted, adrenaline-fuelled trembling.

"What did your brother have to say?" Alex asked quietly, recalling the tail end of the conversation her return had interrupted.

"It's not Eva." Scott replied. "She's definitely who she says she is. Plus her voice doesn't match and … well … most of our access requires voice recognition."

Alex nodded thoughtfully and looked down at her hands.

"And it's not Penny!" Scott insisted, somewhat angrily.

Alex shrugged.

"I _know_ her!" Scott urged, a little louder, "It just can't be true."

Alex looked back up at him and saw the pain in his tired eyes. "So someone is impersonating her."

"Yeah." Scott mumbled, returning to his sandwich.

"You're right …" Alex sighed and leaned back against the waiting room sofa. "This is a bloody awful mess …" She saw the amusement that brightened his face for a moment and it made her smile. "Don't you start! John's always …" Alex paused and turned towards the door with another sigh. "When are they going to give us some news?"

Scott finished his food and gulped down the remainder of his drink. "So … how do we sort out this 'bloody awful mess' …?"

Alex grinned and rolled her eyes. "First by you not speaking in that bloody awful attempt at my accent!"

"Touché."

"I dunno … maybe we should go straight for the big guns."

"Like what?"

Alex sat up straight again, unzipping her close-fitting Kevlar jacket and slipping it from her shoulders. "Well … it's pretty clear that somebody wants to put a stop to your organisation." She frowned and shrugged slightly, "But you guys have the support of so many powerful people. I mean, my government is always praising you, countries all over the globe are indebted to you, the people love you … surely we can find help _somewhere …_?"

Scott considered her words for a moment and then suddenly gasped. "Dude! You're a genius!" He peeled his sleeve back from his wristwatch and spoke into the comm.

"I am …?" Alex muttered quietly as they waited for a response.

"Alan!" Scott greeted the reply excitedly, "Hack in to IWN and find out where that annoying reporter is!"

"Hey?" Alan urged over the comm. "Why?"

"I've got an idea." Scott answered hurriedly, "Just find her, would ya? And where's Virg?"

"In a safe holding pattern above you, as ordered."

Scott nodded thoughtfully.

"How's John?" Alan asked quietly.

"Still in surgery."

"Crap." Alan groaned and then fell silent.

"How you doin', buddy?" Scott ventured.

"How the hell do you think I'm doing?" Came the husky reply.

Scott closed his eyes and dearly wished he could somehow click his fingers and make this all go away. He then felt a hand on his arm and looked up to see Alex nodding in reassurance.

"Found her." Alan reported after a moment. "But … hang on just a – oh shit!"

"What?" Scott urged worriedly.

"I've got two helicopters approaching Dad's position and … oh hell … this can't be good."

_tbc …_


	21. Chapter 21

_Thank you very much to everyone who has stuck with me and especially those who have taken the time to review. It means a great deal._

_Just time enough to refer back to my original disclaimer and acknowledge the genius of the source material before we continue. Hope you enjoy the ride!_

* * *

The sudden wind that had picked up stirred the still branches of the trees and began to blow away the remainder of the gas cloud. Jeff peered upwards through painful, tear-filled eyes and saw the source of the wind. Grateful for the fresh, cool breeze on his face, Jeff watched in awe as the two all but silent helicopters hovered above the forest.

Their presence was more than a little concerning and their silent approach only added to his fear. Jeff blinked away hot, poisoned tears and resisted the urge to rub at his stinging eyes, recalling how this would only make it worse.

Beside him, Penny was still coughing with the powerful effects of the gas and scratching at her face with her gloved hands. Jeff crawled over to her and grabbed her wrists, stopping her from causing further injury and pulling her against him firmly.

"Are you hurt?" His voice was hoarse and he coughed dryly.

"No." Penny managed.

Their surroundings were a blur and Jeff frowned as he looked through the last wisps of remaining gas. It seemed some of the marines were in a similar predicament to them, stunned and in pain from the gas but obviously still alive. The other still forms lying on the ground gave a more ominous report and Jeff sighed in dismay.

The high-pitched zip sound of personnel descending from ropes that now dangled from the helicopters caught Jeff's attention. He turned and could just make out the six black-clad figures that rapidly approached them.

"Freeze!" Came the harsh, shouted order.

Jeff nodded and let go of Penny, slowly raising his hands in submission. Two of the soldiers rushed over to the pair of them and guarded them with the threatening aim of semi-automatics. Jeff was aware of the others surrounding what remained of the marine group and he waited patiently for further instruction.

"Jeff …?" Penny whispered.

Jeff gave a quick shake of his head and turned to smile at her in reassurance. He could just about make out her concerned expression and he followed her gaze. His heart slammed against his chest as he watched one of the soldiers kneel down beside one of the bodies that lay beside the jeep. A careful check for any pulse at the man's neck and a heavy sigh of dismay and Jeff watched as the Hood was confirmed dead.

His head was swimming dizzily. He had been ready to kill him. And now he was looking upon his still form and suddenly completely numb. Not relieved. Not upset. Just nothing.

"Such a shame." The soldier groaned quietly and turned to look at Jeff.

Jeff watched as the soldier stood and headed towards him. _It wasn't me_, Jeff wanted to shout. But suddenly he was confused; was he just as responsible because he had somehow wanted this to happen?

"Why …?" The soldier knelt down in front of Jeff and sighed again.

Jeff tried to focus on the soldier's face and blinked away further stinging tears.

"You don't see it, do you …?" The soldier continued. "You don't see what has been lost." Another sigh, "One of the greatest minds the world has ever known … gone. Because of you."

"I …" Jeff cleared his tight throat, "It was an accident. The smoke and the confusion and … one of the marines must have … god … I'm sorry …" He groaned as he realised that he really meant it. No matter how much hate he had once felt for the man, no matter how much hurt the Hood had caused his family, there was something very empty about the loss of his life. Empty and wrong. And Jeff wondered how he could ever have thought that the Hood's death would be anything else.

"Still …" The soldier continued, "It makes our job a whole lot easier." He stood and turned away from him. "Trying to bring down International Rescue had proved damned near impossible. But murder is infallible." He laughed gently, "I don't know why we didn't think of it before."

Penny groaned as she realised the full extent of the hell they were now immersed in. "Now, wait just a minute. You can't - "

"Oh, we can." The soldier chuckled softly, "And we will."

"We?" Jeff inquired.

"Indeed." He laughed again, "Just about every abbreviated organisation you can think of. Seems not everyone likes the idea of some secret, heavily armoured task force creeping about the globe."

"What?" Jeff gasped, "We're not - "

"Not what?" The soldier demanded icily, "Not dangerous?" He looked around them and again chuckled softly, "That argument is a little hard to prove now, don't you think?"

"But - " Jeff shook his head vehemently, "We didn't - "

"Didn't what?" He stepped back to him and shook his head in dismay, "Didn't fly into a clearly designated NFZ? Didn't interfere in the almost settled negotiations of a civil war? Didn't try to destroy a government facility?" He crouched down before him, "Didn't seek revenge for the harm you claim was done to you by a certain Trangh Belagant?"

"What? No! I never - "

"Because, even to the untrained eye, the actions of your organisation over the past few months have been more than a little questionable."

Penny groaned in dismay, "Now, wait just a damned - "

"Enough." The soldier waived his hand dismissively and turned his attention to his men. "Bring them!"

Jeff cried out in protest as he was grabbed by the shoulders and forced to his feet, his arms yanked behind his back and the soldier began to bind his wrists. He still couldn't quite see clearly and the disorientation added to his fear. It also prevented him from seeing exactly what happened next.

Six shots fired. The first came from somewhere in the forest beside them. The others became louder as someone approached them.

Jeff stood very still, hardly daring to breathe. And slowly he realised that he was no longer being held. He glanced behind him and saw his assailant dropping to the ground.

"Jeff?" Penny was suddenly at his side, clutching at his arm, her fear evident in her quiet voice.

"Mr. Tracy?"

Jeff turned towards the voice, seeing a blurred figure emerging from the forest.

"Are you alright, sir?"

"Y-yes." Jeff stammered, "I …"

"Good." Eva sighed in relief and jogged towards him, her eyes darting around and taking in the scene. "All clear." She announced into her handset and grabbed Penny as she continued towards Jeff. "We need to find cover. Fast."

Jeff and Penny stumbled along beside Eva and let her lead them briskly into the forest. She then ran back out and Jeff's vision had improved enough to see her assisting the marines away from the road.

It was then that the two helicopters loomed in closer. Having evidently discovered the lack of response from their colleagues, the crews sank lower to investigate. And then continued to descend, their speed growing as the rotors paused, shuddered and died.

Penny gasped and instinctively cowered from the sight, covering her ears and closing her eyes. But the two helicopters sank seemingly noiselessly into the trees, the sound of cracking branches and shattering rotors the only warning of the loud ground impact.

"We have to go." Eva ordered suddenly, dragging two limping marines behind her. "NOW!"

Jeff made no protest. He grabbed Penny and fell into quick pursuit of Eva's departing form. His mind was empty as he helped Penny stumble beside him and they fled back to the camp.

The gentle whine of the awakening engines filled the wide yard and Jeff sighed in relief as he turned towards the sound and saw a familiar figure perched in the cockpit of launch-ready Thunderbird One.

"It worked!" Eva laughed triumphantly and came to a halt at the edge of the complex.

Penny frowned in concern and looked pointedly at her. "There was a chance it wouldn't?"

Eva shrugged, "The targeting array has never really been tested." She admitted sheepishly, a smile dancing on her lips. She then flinched a little as the retros beneath the powerful craft gave a test burst and her smile grew. "But your guy made a few adjustments and it works!"

Jeff watched her thoughtfully, his frown growing as she caught his gaze.

Eva's smile vanished, "And it has to be destroyed."

Jeff nodded sombrely.

"As soon as you guys are clear." She continued quietly and then groaned suddenly at their lack of motion. "Well? Go already!"

Jeff began towards his craft but Penny hesitated. "What about - "

"I'll get your guys safely back to your transport and see my remaining people clear." She glanced back towards the forest. "We should be long gone before those guys come looking."

Penny shook her head in confusion.

"Tranq' gun." Eva shrugged, "Damned Spooks piss me off but that's no reason to wipe 'em out."

Penny's lips tightened.

"Get going!" Eva urged with a slight chuckle.

Penny nodded. "Thank you." She managed quietly. "I hope you - "

"I'll be fine!" Eva waved her of confidently, "I've been thinking about a career move anyhow … seems helping you guys has clinched it!" She laughed softly, "And who knows … maybe I'll drop by sometime and you can buy me a beer." Her laughter grew and she shook her head as she turned and assisted the marines towards the main building. "If you can call that warm brown stuff you guys put up with 'beer' …"

Penny smiled and quickly headed after Jeff to clamber up inside the impatiently snorting Thunderbird One.

* * *

Scott sat down hard on the waiting room sofa and let his head fall into his hands. "God, I can't take much more of this …"

Alex perched beside him and stroked her hand across his tight shoulders. "It's okay … your brother said your dad's okay …"

"I know … I know …" Scott sighed heavily, "I'm just so tired and …"

"It'll be okay." Alex repeated softly. She then heard the muffled crackle of her radio and she quickly retrieved it from beneath her vest. "Two five niner, receiving. Over."

"_Alex? I can't keep covering for you, mate_."

"I know, Tom." Alex sighed, "I'm sorry. Can you come back to Tommy's and pick me up?"

"_Okay_."

Alex signed off and pulled her vest back on, zipping the tight protection around her chest. "I'm sorry." She offered in dismay.

"No problem." Scott smiled thinly, "Thanks for being here."

"Keep me updated, yeah?" Alex stood and headed for the door. She glanced back and saw Scott flop back against the sofa wearily. With a sigh, she headed from the room and gasped as she nearly collided with one of the doctors.

Scott stood quickly as he recognised the surgeon and hurried across the room. "Well?"

"Um …" The surgeon glanced warily at Alex.

"It's okay." Scott explained dismissively. "How is he?"

The surgeon smiled warmly, "He will be fine."

"Oh, thank god!" Scott groaned.

"We had to remove his spleen, sew up a small tear in his diaphragm and did some extensive repair work to a damaged kidney." The doctor continued, "But he should make a full recovery. We'll need to keep him here under observation for a few days but it went well."

Scott frowned in concern and shook his head slowly. "Spleen?"

The surgeon nodded, "It's a very delicate organ and it was bleeding heavily. He'll need to take daily antibiotics for a few years and have regular check ups but he'll be fine."

Scott pondered his words for a moment and wanted to ask if any of what he suggested might change if he knew Scott was an astronaut. But somehow John's career seemed insignificant next to the news that he was alive.

"Can I see him?" Scott asked carefully.

"Of course." The surgeon nodded, "Although he was a little agitated when he started to come round so we gave him a sedative. He'll be asleep for a while yet."

"And security?" Alex asked quickly.

The surgeon smiled, "Already taken care of. Our staff have been well briefed."

Scott cringed inwardly at the instant memory of his rather over-excited father barking orders at portering staff and somewhat bemused security guards. He wondered how many of them were now very glad that this time their visitor did not have his 'leader' in tow.

They followed the doctor out to the reception area and were greeted by one of the nurses. Scott's heart was racing as they then accompanied her up to the private wing. It seemed to take an age to reach the twelfth floor and it did nothing for his nerves. The familiar ward brought back painful memories and he kept close to Alex.

Alex sighed with relief as they entered the ward and she saw the two uniformed security personnel standing guard outside the private room. With a smile, she greeted them and waited for Scott to be led into the room.

Having just been moved from the operating theatre, the staff were busy assessing John's condition and making him comfortable. Not that he would have known it. His peaceful face bore evidence of his deep, drug-induced slumber and Scott was suddenly envious of him.

The nurses acknowledged Scott briefly and then continued with their work. He settled into a chair in the corner of the room and closed his eyes, simply relieved to be near his brother.

Alex watched the scene through the open door for a moment and felt her throat tighten as she saw John's pale form. Scott had not explained exactly what had happened to him. But he had said enough. And the bruising to John's face told a story of it's own.

Alex retreated from the room. Having seen that he was safe, she then had an idea that would ensure he stayed that way.

Tom was confused and annoyed and she couldn't blame him. But as much as she wanted to explain her involvement, she couldn't risk it under the circumstances. Which gave him little option other than to take a seat outside the private hospital room and glare at her in irritation. Even the fact that within the private room were two members of a group that he idolised didn't help his mood. But it was small price to pay for her to stay close to John.

She told DCI Bryce that they were pursuing a possible lead with a potential witness to a case she and Tom had been working on and he had acknowledged her hunch. Whether he believed the lie or not didn't matter. He was letting her stay at the hospital for now.

And suddenly everyone was suspicious. The tale Scott told of conspiracy and betrayal was scary enough. Add to it that this was being done to the Thunderbirds and nothing in the world seemed to make sense anymore.

She checked everyone's ID twice over, cross-referenced all the staff against their listed schedules and challenged anyone who looked remotely dubious. It made the already busy jobs of the staff hell and further irritated Tom but Alex didn't care. She would do whatever it took.

And for a while it was easy for Scott to believe that they were finally safe.

_tbc …_


	22. Chapter 22

The journey from far eastern Europe to the UK was completed in a heartbeat, giving the passengers in the powerful rocket barely time to gather their thoughts.

Jeff rubbed at his itching eyes and blinked at the still slightly misty world beyond the plexi-glass shielding.

"Feeling any better?" Brains asked in concern.

"A little." Jeff smiled thinly and replaced the damp cloth over his eyes. Brains had located a small eye wash kit in one of the laboratories and five rinses with the cool saline had finally begun to soothe the burning.

"Lady Penelope?" Brains urged.

"Fine." Penny smiled bravely, "But what I wouldn't give for some cucumber face pack right now."

"Okay …" Brains cleared his throat and turned his attention back to piloting the craft. "We're on final approach to Cri-Cri-Cri-your house. Parker is standing by."

"Poor lad," Penny sighed, "He so wanted to come with us. And maybe if he had …"

"Don't even go there." Jeff offered softly, "I've got enough ifs, buts and maybes to last me a hell of a long time."

"Mmm … I just want a long bath and a change of clothes …" Penny sighed and then turned to Jeff, "And then check in on John."

Jeff nodded in agreement. As much as he wanted to rush straight to his son, they needed to be careful. Now more than ever. Hiding Thunderbird One and making the trip into the city in slightly more 'conventional' transport seemed sensible. They couldn't risk attracting much more attention to themselves.

* * *

Scott watched in concern as the previously peaceful features of his brother were now twisted in alternating waves of fearful recollection and pain. He reached out and took hold of John's hand, feeling him respond with a gentle grip.

"Hey …" Scott ventured warily.

John opened his eyes and turned to look at Scott, as he had done four other times in as many minutes. But this time his heavy, drug-laced eyes seemed to focus for a moment. Tears gathered there and he groaned softly. John turned his face away and flicked his fingers free of Scott's grasp.

"John?" Scott sighed loudly, "C'mon, man … don't do this … not now."

John made no reply, his shoulders trembling with the approach of further tears.

"Don't shut me out." Scott continued carefully, "Not this time." He stood from his chair and leaned over the bed, reaching out to place his hand on John's shoulder. "John?"

"I …" John's voice was hoarse and he coughed dryly, clutching at his chest as he did so. "I can't …"

"Can't what?" Scott frowned, "Can't cope with it? Can't talk to me?"

John nodded slowly.

"Dude …" Scott closed his eyes and sat back down. "I understand … I was there …"

"No." John whispered, "You weren't."

Scott felt his own tears gathering as he watched his brother drift back into a medicated slumber and his words hung in the air around them. It was all too much. And, try as he might to be strong, he was simply too tired and he needed some air. He stood once again and hurried from the room.

"How is he?" Alex asked quickly, following Scott a short way down the ward.

Scott shrugged wearily, "He's being given so much morphine … I don't know if he's really awake." He replied. Well, it was almost true. "Listen, I'll be outside." Scott nodded towards the exit doors and smiled thinly. "Don't suppose either of you guys would have a cigarette."

Alex shook her head. "Sorry."

Scott shrugged and headed off of the ward.

Alex turned back to the room and peered in through the small window in the door.

"There's more to this than you're telling me." Tom ventured quietly.

Alex wanted to laugh. She turned to him and smiled warmly. "Nothing gets by you, does it, mate?"

Tom frowned in confusion. "How long have you known them?" He then gasped slightly, "Are you working for them?"

"Look, Tom …" Alex began carefully, "I promise one day we'll sit down over a pint and I'll tell you all about it but for now …"

Tom smiled and made a zipping signal across his mouth, his original annoyance now replaced with childlike delight at being involved.

"Thank you." Alex nodded and turned back to open the door.

The room was warm, bathed in uncharacteristically bright sunlight that crept through the partly closed blinds and the heavy air circulating with the efforts of a large fan in the corner. Alex stepped further inside and swallowed back tears as she approached the bed. He was sat semi-upright amid the jumbled pillows and he was in a right mess.

She watched him sleeping restlessly as she neared him and took in the apparent extent of the damage. The most concerning feature was the long white dressing that ran up the centre of his body, concealing the navel to sternum scar beneath.

The opening of the door behind her made her jump suddenly and she turned to see one of the nurses entering the room. She smiled a greeting to Alex and headed over to her patient.

"How is he?" Alex queried.

The nurse checked through the data on the various monitors and frowned in thought. "He has a high temperature but that can be normal after such a large blood transfusion." She glanced at Alex before checking the various pumps and IV lines. "Are you hoping to interview him or something? He'll be too drowsy for a while yet."

"I know." Alex smiled thinly, "We've met before and I thought I'd sit with him for a bit. Just so there's a familiar face here if he wakes."

"That's kind of you." The nurse nodded and wandered from the room.

Alex ventured closer and sat down on the chair beside the bed. It seemed an age since she had last been this near to him. Too long in fact. She had tried to convince herself that she was coping fine with the distance but being this close to him only served to prove otherwise. She reached out and took hold of his hand.

John stirred and turned his face towards her, his eyes blinking open and seemingly looking straight through her.

"Hi there." Alex smiled.

John frowned slightly and cleared his throat. "Al …?"

"Yeah."

"But …" His frown deepened and he closed his eyes. "Where am I?"

"In hospital. In London." Alex replied carefully.

John groaned softly, his frown fading as he remembered. His face then crumpled and he gave a small sob. "Oh god, Al!"

Alex stood and leaned over him, carefully resting her forehead against his. He reached up and clutched at her shoulders, pulling her closer.

"Al, I … oh god …"

"Shh …" Alex husked tearfully, "I'm here."

"Al?" John pleaded.

"I know. I'm here." She stepped back from him for a moment, hearing his groan of protest as she moved out of his reach. She nodded in reassurance and unzipped her vest; breathing a sigh of relief as she slipped off the close, hot protection. She draped it over the chair and then frowned in thought. All of the monitoring and IV lines were over on his right side and she smiled as she lowered the left side rail and climbed up onto the bed.

John murmured appreciatively as Alex carefully perched on the edge of the mattress and slipped one arm behind his head, careful not to pull on the lines that ran into the vein in his neck. He leaned his head against her shoulder and groaned as further sobs jarred his body.

Alex closed her eyes and kissed his damp forehead. She let her lips linger there for a moment and frowned in concern. His skin was hot and smelled of soap and disinfectant. The sweet odour brought back painful memories and she shuddered slightly. But somewhere beneath the strong hospital cologne was a hint of the familiar scent of him and she breathed it in.

"It was horrible …"John managed after a moment, his voice barely a whisper.

"I know. Scott told me." She offered softly, wanting to reassure him that he didn't have to give any more detail unless he wanted to.

John nodded slightly, falling silent except for the odd grateful whimper as she stroked her fingers through his hair.

"Al?" John resumed after a few minutes.

"Yeah."

"Have you ever shot someone?"

"No." Alex answered quietly, her heart sinking as she suddenly had an awful feeling as to where this might be leading.

John groaned slightly and reached up to clutch at her arm and pulled her closer.

Alex waited for him to continue but when he said nothing further, she leaned back a little and realised that he had drifted back into drugged sleep. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the gentle bleating of the various pumps and monitors and the reality of the whole awful situation. But it was impossible. And after a while, her cool tears began to slide down her face and fell quietly into John's hair.

* * *

If there was one thing that was guaranteed in any hospital, it was that hovering round the main entrances and their large SMOKING KILLS placards would be countless anxious relatives and bored patients dragging hungrily on precious cigarettes. Scott lit the prize he had gleaned with his dishevelled fearful visitor appearance and inhaled deeply. Cheap and bitter but with the desired kick, the smoke seemed as nectar and he moaned appreciatively, again nodding his thanks to his fellow rebel and wandering off towards the gardens beside the hospital.

The morning was bright and pleasant and seemed somehow out of place. Low clouds and rain would have better suited his mood right then. Or possibly made it worse.

John was impossible to understand. It had taken years for Scott to even scratch the surface of what constituted his reclusive, serious brother but now that opening seemed resolutely closed once again.

And what bugged Scott more than the fact that this problem couldn't be easily solved was that he had _been_ there. He was the only one who had a chance in hell of understanding how John felt and yet now he was being pushed away. And something of Scott's similar stubbornness said _fine. Be like that._ And that was wrong.

The gentle chirping of an incoming call interrupted Scott's intense, sullen study of the grass at his feet and he opened the channel. "Virg."

"How is he?"

"Good." Scott answered quickly, "He'll be okay." Eventually, maybe, he wanted to add.

"Thank god … Listen … Scott …"

There was something in his voice. "What … ?" Scott ventured quietly.

"We … well, that's to say … me and Gord and Alan … well …"

"Oh for God's sake!" Scott snapped wearily. "What?"

"We had an idea."

Scott closed his eyes and held his breath.

"Scott?"

"What have you done?" Scott sighed.

"Well, we thought that maybe … well … we need help, right. I mean, we're up to our necks in some pretty scary shit and fast running out of allies."

"Yeah …" Scott prompted suspiciously.

"So, we found one."

"Who?" Scott looked up instinctively, "Virg, where are you?"

"L.A."

"WHAT!"

"Listen, don't get mad - "

"Virg, it's a bit fucking late for that! What the _hell_ have you done?"

Silence.

"Virg?"

Virgil could be heard taking a deep breath (before the plunge) and then spilled out his blatantly rehearsed speech. "We figured that in light of the fact that we can't trust anyone who we once thought we could, that we should seek out one who we had thought we couldn't."

Scott groaned, "Enough of the riddle crap, Virg! What have you - ?"

"We talked to the press."

Scott couldn't respond. He wanted to. Several colourful expletives lined up ready for use but he just couldn't get them out.

"Lisa Lowe, to be more precise. We told her what's been happening and asked her for help."

Scott crumpled to the ground and sat cross-legged amid the damp grass, his head spinning.

"She wanted proof that it wasn't a joke and promised us anonymity in return for our trust – and one hell of an exclusive." Virgil continued, evidently becoming more confident at the strange lack of rebuke. "We figured it's our last hope. Go public, so to speak."

Scott closed his eyes and let his dizzy head fall into his hands. Strange thing was, he could see the logic of it. But he still couldn't believe it.

"Scott?" Virgil urged timidly, "What d'you think?"

Scott laughed and suddenly found his voice. "What do I – you've got to be fucking kid -" He paused and sat back upright. "Well … it's apparently too late for whatever I might think …"

"Oh."

Scott frowned suddenly. "Does Dad know about this?"

"No." Virgil chuckled nervously. "And … well … we kinda hoped you'd tell him."

Scott fell backwards onto the grass and clutched at his pounding head; suddenly very much wishing that he wasn't him right then.

_tbc …_


	23. Chapter 23

From the air everything had appeared normal.

Brains set Thunderbird 1 down at the far end of the immense lawn where large oaks and conifers helped conceal her. It was the perfect spot really. And an extra monthly bonus had bought the infuriated gardener's silence.

Penny helped Jeff and Brains heave on the ropes that pulled across the wide tarpaulin suspended amid the tops of the trees. She secured her rope and headed out towards the house, smiling as she glanced back to check the covering. Money bought a great many things: comfort, privacy, seclusion, security. Still, she wondered how many of the British aristocracy could say they had a camouflage canopy strung up behind the tennis courts.

Habit and still stinging reminders of recent events made the three of them stick to the edge of the grounds and they jogged in single file silence beside the cultivated hedge.

Penny halted abruptly as they neared the house, grunting in slight pain as Jeff slammed into her back.

"What?" Jeff urged in a breathless whisper.

"I don't know." She replied quietly, "But something's wrong."

Jeff watched her flushed face for a moment, his heart pounding in his ears. He glanced up at the enormous house before them and then turned to Brains.

Brains shrugged slightly, "I c-c-could head back. Scan the grounds."

Penny sighed heavily, "It was because I heard his voice."

"Hey?" Jeff frowned.

"Parker." Penny smiled thinly, "I heard his relief but nothing more." She closed her eyes, replaying the conversation in her mind. "But maybe he did try to warn me."

Jeff's frown deepened and he looked back at the seemingly normal, quiet house. "But … Pen - ?"

"The curtains." Penny stated sadly.

Jeff and Brains took another look at the house but were both still none the wiser.

Penny glanced at her watch. "It's ten in the morning and the curtains are closed in the upper floor."

Jeff's frown faded and he instinctively backed up against the hedge, nodding in wary understanding.

Brains pulled his comm. device from his pocket and cleared his throat. "Thunderbird 5, come in."

"Roger, Brains."

"Alan. We need you to sc-sc-sc-do a complete sensor sweep of the Creighton-Ward estate."

"Really?"

"Yup."

"Okay … give me a sec … what am I looking for, anyhow?"

"Uh … we're not sure," Brains replied quietly. Hopefully nothing, he added to himself. He looked up at Penny and Jeff and was sure they were also silently praying.

"Okay …" Alan began after what seemed an impossibly long minute. "I've got Parker located in a large room at the front of the mansion. "And he's got eight others with him."

"What are they doing?" Penny asked quickly.

"Just sitting together," Alan chuckled, "Caught the staff having a coffee morning, huh?"

"How about the rest of the grounds?" Jeff urged.

"Hey, Dad." Alan's voice was smiling, "Uh … nothing except the three of you."

"Thanks, Alan." Jeff nodded.

"Sure," Alan's voice sank a little, "Is everything okay?"

Jeff and Brains turned to Penny and watched her shake her head sadly.

"Just fine," Brains offered hurriedly, "We'll be in touch."

"F.A.B."

Brains switched off the comm. and sighed heavily.

Penny was counting on her fingers, muttering her thoughts softly. "It's a midweek morning so … Parker, housekeeper, gardener, two maids, cook …"

"That leaves three." Brains concluded.

Penny contemplated her calculations for a moment and then nodded slowly. "Three."

"And three of us." Jeff shrugged.

"And no idea who they are or if they are armed." Penny countered.

Brains gasped slightly and reached inside his jacket, pulling out a very small pistol. "It's only a st-st-st-tranquilizer. But they won't know that."

Jeff nodded eagerly, "And we've got the element of surprise."

Penny laughed suddenly, "We just called in!" She shook her head and pointed back down to the far end of the grounds. "Never mind the low fly-by and landing!"

"Ah." Jeff conceded quietly.

"No … we need to go about this carefully …" Penny sighed and pulled her fingers through her tangled hair, retying the loose ponytail at the base of her neck. "In fact," She gasped slightly and turned to head back away from the house. "We need to get to my car!"

The three of them jogged in a wide arc around the west wing of the mansion and ducked down under the windows as they edged round to approach the front of the house.

Jeff peered out across the quiet front drive and grinned suddenly as he saw the long pink limousine. "Since when did my money and Brains' invention become _your_ car … ?"

Penny sighed and turned to glare at him with a very clear 'not now' message etched on her face.

Jeff shrugged an apology, his smile lingering as he thought of the many times he had commented on his son's cheeky bravado during dangerous rescues; there was no doubting who they had got that from.

"Together." Penny suggested in a whisper and watched them nod in agreement. She held up her fist, lifting her fingers in sequence. On three, they ran for it.

The gravel drive was noisy with a long line of mini-eruptions as the bullets that trailed them impacted with the ground at their feet. A few shots ricochet off the bright armour-plating of FAB1 and they were sure that some had grazed their hair as they at last reached their target and crouched down behind the protection of the car.

Penny closed her eyes and leaned against the car, breathless and scared.

Brains patted the door beside him and smiled gratefully, the last few rounds that pursued them still spinning off of the shielding.

"Well," Jeff shook his head, his ears ringing from the gunfire. He watched his companions catching their breath and a smile pulled at his lips. "I guess they're armed."

* * *

Alex adjusted her position carefully, flexing the fingers in her right hand and feeling a little sensation return as blood flowed again. She was balanced awkwardly on the edge of the bed and her shoulder ached where John rested against her but he had fallen into such a deep, peaceful sleep and she was loath to disturb him.

The nurse smiled in understanding as she crept into the room and beheld the two of them.

Alex could feel her cheeks flushing, "He was restless and - "

"It's okay." The nurse nodded and her smile grew. "It was kind of obvious." She continued forwards and then headed round to the other side of the bed. "Although, if I were you, I'd be careful."

Alex frowned up at her warily.

"Being in the bed and all, we might mistake you for a patient."

"Oh," Alex laughed softly, "True." She turned her attention to John and could just make out his face below her. "How is he doing?"

"Fine."

Alex looked back up and saw the nurse watching them in intrigue. It was clear she wanted to ask about him, about Alex, about all of it. But professional courtesy and a promise to John's father stopped her.

"It should be fine to move him in a few hours."

"Move him?" Alex echoed.

The nurse nodded, "To his private medical facility. Wherever that is." She smiled warmly, excited by the secrecy of it all. "His doctor is outside now discussing the transfer with our staff."

Alex turned to the door but could see nothing beyond the small glass window. She was confused; surely Scott would have said –

Tom's face was pale and full of fear as he suddenly hurried into the room. "I'm sorry Alex, I tried to - " He was silenced as a small squeaking sound came from somewhere behind him and he was thrown forward by the impact of the silenced bullet slamming into his vest.

Alex was rolling off of the bed and onto her feet in a heartbeat. She heard the nurse yelp in terror and John cry out in pain as she pulled her arm out from behind him and dove to the floor.

The two suited men were clear in their intentions, guns raised and faces emotionless as they strode into the room. Alex grabbed her bulletproof vest and threw it up over John, hearing the thud of impacting bullets and John gasping in fear.

Alex fired back, her un-silenced weapon shattering the relative quiet of the ward. Her aim was good and she watched in relief as the two strangers dropped their weapons and clutched at their injured shoulders.

In the sudden quiet of the room, Alex called out to Tom and heard him groan an affirmative. She peered under the bed and watched him rolling onto his back, bruised and shocked but unharmed.

Alex got to her feet and kept her gun trained on the two men as she stepped closer to the bed. "John?"

John pushed the vest off of his face and nodded, his eyes closed as he waited for the pain from sudden movement to fade.

Alex looked beyond him to the nurse and watched her cowering in the corner of the room behind a chair but the older woman managed a brief smile and Alex returned one of her own.

Sensibly, the ward staff had stayed well back from the commotion but now a few nurses were appearing in the corridor, peering cautiously around the door.

"Call your security team." Alex ordered calmly.

"We already have." One of them replied quietly. "And more police."

Alex sighed inwardly; this was not necessarily a good thing. She nodded and then moved slowly towards the two strangers who had attacked them. "Who are you?"

The two men glared back at her sullenly.

"Tom?" Alex urged.

"Yeah." Tom was at last on his feet, reaching behind him to reassure himself that the vest had worked.

"Cuff the one by the door." Alex continued, "I've got this one." She stepped forwards and smiled thinly at the man before her. "Kindly hold out your hands, sir."

The man winced as he obeyed her, the movement jarring his heavily bleeding shoulder.

Alex sighed in relief and holstered her gun, pulling her cuffs from her belt. "I'm arresting you for assault with intent with a deadly weapon. You have the right to - "

"I know my rights." The man growled in annoyance, glaring at Alex as she secured the handcuffs firmly.

"Oh really?" Alex smiled thinly, "Care to explain them to me? Hmm? What exactly gives you the right to attack a sick man in his hospital bed?"

The man fell silent again, groaning as Alex eased him back across the room and into a chair. Tom then forced the other attacker to follow suit and together he and Alex studied them in interest.

Alex turned to her partner. "ID." She began quietly, "And I'd better call it in." She headed back across the room to grab her radio when a commotion the erupted in the corridor and she headed out to investigate.

"It's okay!" Alex called out quickly as she saw an angry, worried Scott about to launch into one of the rather burly security guards that was prevented him entering the ward.

"Alex!" Scott lurched past the guards and raced along the wards. "What the hell is going on?"

Alex shrugged her shoulders, "Wish I could tell you." She sighed and shook her head, "They just appeared from nowhere and - "

"What?" Scott gasped, stepping past her and hurrying into John's room. He took it all in within a few seconds, the cuffed men, the frightened nurse, the police vest that lay across John's legs. His eyes rested on his shaken brother for a moment and he then turned to the two gunmen. "Who the hell are you?"

The two men stared at the floor in silence.

"Who are you!" Scott shouted suddenly, leaping forward and grabbing the nearest man by the hair, forcing him to look up. "Who sent you?"

The man clenched his teeth and remained stubbornly silent.

"Scott …" Alex moved close to him, placing her hand on his shoulder.

Scott released the man and groaned angrily as he back away.

Alex watched Scott in concern and then turned her attention to the nurse. "Could you get some supplies to treat these men?"

The nurse nodded eagerly, all too happy for any excuse to get out of the room.

"Nothing." Tom had finished searching the two men and shook his head sadly. "No ID." He turned to Alex and frowned in confusion. "Al … after what you told me … if Bryce turns up, we might never know."

Alex nodded slowly. "Get them out of here. See if there's an empty room." She lowered her voice, "_Convince_ them to talk to you."

Tom regarded her in apprehension and then seemed to realise that it was the only option. He urged the two men to their feet and marched them from the room.

Scott had sat down beside John's bed and was watching him in concern. "Bro?" he urged softly.

John's breathing was laboured, his eyes squeezed tightly closed. "I'll be fine." He husked through clenched teeth.

Alex approached him from the other side of the bed and reached out to place her hand on his cheek. John leaned into her touch and smiled thinly.

Scott jumped slightly as the comm. in his watch bleeped gently and he sighed wearily.

"Scott! They've got Parker and they shot at Dad!"

"Wo!" Scott soothed quickly, "Alan, slow down. What's happened?"

Alan's voice was still filled with panic but somehow he was able to relay what had happened at Penny's house.

Scott looked up at Alex and could see John fighting back tears.

"Scott, Virg and Gord think it's because of them! The news report went out ten minutes ago." Alan continued hurriedly. "Scott, what the fuck are we supposed to do?"

Scott held Alex's gaze and watched her nodding slowly.

"It makes sense." John husked quietly, "They don't … don't want to be exposed."

"They've stepped up their game." Alex agreed sombrely. "They'll get rid of anyone who saw them."

"Scott?" Alan called over the comm., his voice cracking. "What should we do?"

_tbc …_


	24. Chapter 24

At first it had surprised Penny at how easy it had been to break into FAB1. But then she had watched as Brains had quickly climbed into the driver's seat, his had fingers flying expertly over the controls and she remembered that she was in the presence of the genius creator of the awesome machine.

"The drawing room …" Brains muttered as he frowned at the infrared image and blueprints on the screen before him.

Penny smiled despite the situation, suddenly desperate to add a murder weapon and suspect to Brains' revelation.

"We can take them out." Jeff offered quickly.

Brains turned to him, apparently unsure if this was a question or a request.

"Absolutely!" Penny agreed quickly, "We've _so _got the upper hand now!"

Brains turned back to the display. "Wait …"

"Ideas?" Jeff urged Penny.

Penny frowned, "Take out the window, fill the room with smoke from the rear emitters and in the chaos we can - "

A shrill alarm interrupted her suddenly. It was a sound that she had not before heard the car emit and it concerned her somewhat.

_Autodestruct activated._

"WHAT!" Penny and Jeff exclaimed together.

"What the hell are you doing, Brains?" Penny demanded in panic – and more than a touch of anger.

Brains hastily entered several commands into the console, his face suddenly pale and glistening with sweat. "I … I d-d-don't understand - "

_Countdown set for thirty seconds. Mark._

Brains removed his hands from the console and held them up in apparent confusion.

"Brains?" Jeff gasped and clambered forwards to lean over Brains' shoulder and examine the display for himself. "Turn it off!"

"I can't."

"What?" Penny shrieked and struggled futilely with one of the door handles. "Get us out of here!"

"I can't." Brains replied with a strange calmness and nodded towards the house.

Jeff looked up and watched in horror as the woman wandered slowly towards the car.

Penny followed their gaze and gasped in horror. The likeness was perfect and she stared in confusion and dread as she saw herself walking towards them.

The woman raised the object in her hand to her pink-glossed lips and smiled as she spoke. "De-activate autodestruct."

_Acknowledged._

And the noise abruptly ceased.

"So." The woman stepped right up to the side of the car and grinned down at the three of them. "Do I have your attention?"

* * *

The momentary shocked pause had long since passed. Tom had gained nothing from the two gunmen but had received word that DCI Bryce was en route and the decision was made.

John winced as various monitoring cables were detached and the nurse quickly and clumsily disconnected the IV lines from the many ports that nestled beneath his skin.

"Virg!" Scott called into the comm. "Virg, you're gonna have to get down here and pick us up. We need to get the hell out of here."

"Roger that." Came the worried reply. "But how? Where?"

Scott turned to Alex for help and she shrugged an apology. "I'll get back to you on that, Virg." Scott sighed and switched off the comm. "Oh god, this is crazy! Where the _hell_ are we gonna go!" He watched in concern as the nurse began to help John turn to sit on the side of the bed, eliciting a cry of pain from his injured brother.

"If we can get to my car." Alex began quietly, hurrying to John and holding him steady while the nurse left to find a wheelchair. "We can get to somewhere open and - "

"Why can't you guys just pick him up from outside the front?" Tom frowned.

"Because they'll be expecting that."

Scott and Alex gasped and spun towards the stranger that had suddenly appeared at the door. John groaned and collapsed back on the bed.

"Who are _you_?" Alex had stepped away from John and drawn her gun and watched Tom do the same. "Speak!" She ordered angrily.

"Easy …" The man raised his hands and nodded slowly. "Henry Shaw. MI5."

"Yeah, right!" Scott scoffed in disgust, kneeling on the bed to check his brother had only fainted. "That's a _real_ comfort."

"Eva called me."

Scott paused and turned back slowly. "What?"

"Eva Miller. She called and said you needed help." Henry smiled thinly, "Well, she called a whole collection of us but it seems I'm the closest."

Satisfied that his brother was still alive, Scott stood slowly from the bed and stepped beside a still poised and ready to fire Alex. "Really …"

Henry nodded quickly, "She said she was using the alias of Mishka and that she and the lead IR agent – I'm guessing that's you - had not really hit it off at first." He shrugged slightly, not understanding the odd message he had been hastily given. "And that your colleague," He nodded in concern towards John, "Had saved her life."

Alex glanced at Scott warily but kept her aim firmly in the new player's direction. "Well?"

Scott took a deep breath and sighed it noisily into the room. "Oh, hell, I don't know. We're fucked anyhow." He threw his hands in the air and laughed suddenly. "Sure, Henry, whatever."

Henry smiled in relief and waited patiently for Alex and Tom to holster their weapons. "Right. I've got colleagues arranging your safe passage out of here."

"Yeah?" Scott enthused.

Henry nodded in reassurance. "Hurry. I've got a car waiting." He peered out of the room and frowned in concern. "I'll go and ensure we've got a clear route down to the front entrance."

Alex watched him leave and shook her head in dismay. "This could easily be a trap."

"I know." Scott sighed and looked down at John, who was slowly regaining consciousness and with it a whole heap of pain.

"Scott …" Alex urged.

Scott closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "Look … he seems pretty genuine. He's got accurate Intel and he doesn't seem to know our names. I think it's worth the risk."

Alex glanced down at John. "Yeah?"

Scott looked down at her and smiled thinly. "Yeah. Just keep sharp, ok?"

"Abso-bloody-lutely!" Alex laughed and turned to Tom. "Where's the car?"

"A&E entrance." Tom replied.

"Get down there and be ready."

Tom nodded and hurried from the room, almost colliding with the nurse who was returning with a box of supplies and a wheelchair.

"Antibiotics and strong painkillers." The nurse explained quickly, shoving the box into Scott's hands. "All that I could grab, really."

"Thanks." Scott nodded and then watched in concern as John was eased down from the bed and into the wheelchair, each movement shuddering through him with a grunt of pain.

"He really shouldn't be moved like this." The nurse commented as she wrapped a blanket around John and watched his head hanging heavily on his chest. "I hope you guys get wherever you're going soon."

"Yeah, so do I." Scott agreed quietly.

Alex then groaned in dismay as her radio announced Bryce's imminent arrival and she gave Scott a warning nod. "Let's go."

Scott secured the box of supplies in John's weak grasp and hurried behind him to push the wheelchair, following a cautious Alex from the room. He was sure that he didn't breathe through the entire seemingly endless journey down through the hospital and his heart was pounding in his ears as they emerged into the ambulance bay.

"Wait!" Scott paused outside the entrance and looked from the waiting police car to the ambulance sitting behind it. "Just in case."

Alex turned to look in the direction he indicated and glance back at the somehow even paler slumped figure in the wheelchair. She nodded in agreement and hurried to the driver's door of the ambulance. "Police!" She opened the door and indicated for the two paramedics to vacate the vehicle.

The two men stared at her in disbelief.

"I'm not kidding!" Alex shouted suddenly. "MOVE!"

The two men scrambled from the ambulance and she climbed into the driver's seat, grabbing her radio and requesting that Tom lead the way.

Scott steered the wheelchair to the back of the ambulance and opened the doors. "Come on, buddy." He leaned down and slipped one of John's arms around his neck, trying to ignore the hiss of pain that shot from his brother as he pulled him to his feet. "We gotta go!"

John was stiff and sore but he had heard the panic in his brother's voice and that was more than enough. He climbed up inside the ambulance and sank on the stretcher.

Scott lifted John's legs up onto the stretcher and pulled the straps round to secure him safely. He then sat down on the passenger seat beside his brother and pulled on his seatbelt. "Alex! Go!"

"Okay!" Alex called back from the cab and relayed the order to Tom.

The police car and ambulance erupted into noisy life, blue lights flashing as they tore from the ambulance bay. They were joined at the front of the hospital by two unmarked cars and Henry waved a greeting before pulling in front of Tom and leading the convoy into the city.

Alex guided the ambulance after the fleeing lead cars and heard the radio crackle beside her. She grabbed the handset and acknowledged the call.

"Hyde Park." Henry ordered calmly.

"Hyde?" Alex confirmed, "St. James' is closer."

"And far too sensitive an area to risk it. Too close to royals and all that. No. Hyde is better. Tell your blokes to call their friends."

Alex smiled and relayed the message to Scott.

Scott watched his brother grimacing in pain as the ambulance sped across Waterloo Bridge and rocked wildly as they turned sharply onto The Strand. "It'll be okay." He reached out and grabbed John's hand, watching him nod in understanding. Scott then opened a channel and told Virgil the plan, praying that it would work.

* * *

They had no choice. The Penny impersonator had been holding all the cards. Well, that is to say the controls to a rather powerful weapon that they had been locked inside.

Jeff glared angrily at the strange woman and the two men that guarded over him.

"Who are you?" Penny demanded suddenly, struggling in vain against the ropes that tied her to the chair.

Jeff turned and saw that she was equally furious, although he wondered if perhaps the fact that this impostor was wearing one of her best (and unique) Vivienne Westwood trouser suits might have more to do with her own personal anger.

The woman stepped closer to Penny and grinned down at her. "Mmm … they paid one of the best surgeons in the world to work his magic … he'll be delighted to hear that it fooled even _you._" She giggled merrily, "Why, we could almost be twins!"

"Nah," Jeff offered lightly, "It's not _that_ good. I mean, with that suit and a blonde wig hell _anyone_ would - "

"Shut up!" The woman spun round and glared a warning at him.

Jeff held his head up defiantly and regarded her in interest. "So … what's the plan? World domination? Or do you simply share a fascination with all things pink and couldn't bare that - "

The slap was hard and almost unbalanced the chair he was tied to. Jeff shook his head to clear the slight dizziness and could taste blood from his split lip.

"You ruined _everything_!" The woman spat angrily.

Jeff frowned up at her in confusion.

"It was perfect. Flawless. Two of the greatest minds the world has ever known. And you and your _bloody_ family wrecked all of it." She sighed in dismay and closed her eyes.

Jeff took the chance to study her features, trying to recall having ever met her. The likeness for Penny would necessitate a second look from a distance but up closer she had a longer, thinner face and nothing of the softness or grace of Penny's poise and manner.

"But," She looked up suddenly and smiled merrily. "Happily, they offered me a second chance. And the good people of our beloved British Intelligence kept all of my inventions all in one, rather accessible, place."

Inventions? Jeff looked past her and could see Brains was equally confused.

"It took me an _age_ to gather all the necessary data and designs. But eventually I found a way to tap into the equally brilliant mind of Mr Hackenbacker here and simply stole what I needed." She spun and looked down at Brains. "Not such a genius when it comes to the distractions of the female variety, are we Professor? This makes it three times that I've beaten you."

Brains looked up into her face and suddenly all colour drained from his. "Oh good god, no."

* * *

Thunderbird Two hung effortlessly above the gathering clouds over the city and waited patiently for the command to descend. Virgil closed his eyes and listened to the quiet of the comm., praying that this insane plan would work. And that this mother of all weeks would finally end.

"Virg?"

Virgil opened his eyes and felt his fists tighten. "Yeah, Al?"

"The police have cleared the park and have posted patrols. It looks okay so far."

"Good." Virgil nodded.

"Thank god …" Gordon sighed beside him.

"You're gonna head straight home, yeah?" Alan continued.

Virgil nodded, "And we'll be with you as soon as Dad gives the word."

"Thanks." Alan's quiet voice told of his current state all too clearly.

"It'll be okay." Virgil offered carefully.

And it was if the powers that be had designated those words as the specific code for more trouble to launch their way. Virgil stared at the proximity alarm in disbelief and then checked the radar display.

"Shit!" Gordon gasped, "Where the _hell_ did they come from?"

Virgil shook his head and could feel weariness dragging on his shoulders. He opened a new comm. connection and could hardly bring himself to say the words. "Scott. We got trouble."

And beneath them, somewhere midway along Piccadilly, Scott had his own trouble. He and John were being tossed about against their restraints as the speeding ambulance tore its way through the slalom of gathered traffic. DCI Bryce was now in pursuit and not far behind them and they were not even sure if they were heading into a park full of friends or more foes.

"Hang on!" Alex shouted in warning, turning the vehicle sharply and crossing the latest junction at crazy speed, passing bemused drivers on the wrong side of the road and praying that they moved out of her way in time.

Scott heard the chirpy tone of his comm. and opened the link. He listened to Virgil's warning and felt his heart sink. "Okay. We've got trouble this end, too. Listen, Virg. We're gonna have to make this fast."

"Understood." Virgil replied, "You'd better tell your driver that."

Scott closed the channel and called out to Alex, watching her lean towards the small gap between the cab and the main bulk of the vehicle. "Alex, we can't chance stopping in the park for even a second. Here's what you need to do."

Alex listened to the plan and gasped in alarm. "What? Are you crazy?"

"Probably," Scott shrugged, "After the week I've had."

Alex chanced a glance at him and saw his sincerity. She shook her head in dismay and clutched the steering wheel tightly as they reached Hyde Park Corner and the grass of the park was suddenly spread out before them.

Her heart was in her throat as the immense green craft sank down through the clouds, it's belly open and the huge mouth of its cargo hold yawning at her.

"It'll be okay." Scott called out eagerly.

"Yeah … right." Alex groaned and kept a steady course across the park. She grabbed her radio and called for more reassurance.

"Go." Tom replied quickly, "I'll cover for you. And I guess I'll see you around."

"Yeah. Thanks." Alex watched as the police car and lead secret service car veered off to the side, leaving her a clear path towards the enormous descending craft.

The bottom of the cargo bay ramp touched the ground and sank amid the grass, rolling up some of the damp turf. And there the green ship waited patiently.

Alex held her breath and slowed her speed. She needed enough momentum to get up the ramp but not to crash through to the other side of the craft.

The front wheels hit the ramp and they climbed upwards easily. As soon as they reached the top, Alex slammed on the brakes and closed her eyes.

Despite her efforts, the ambulance was still going too fast. The front wheels met only air as the vehicle shot up inside the cargo hold and the brakes were all but useless. But then the ship began its ascent away from the ground and cargo bay floor met rubber with a screech and skid.

The ambulance flew past the bright yellow of Thunderbird Four and careered through the cargo bay, suddenly meeting the not quite wide enough gap between the Thunderizer and the Firefly. With a painful grinding of metal and a sudden thud, the ambulance stopped abruptly, wedged between the solid bulk of the two machines.

Alex waited a few seconds before she dared open her eyes and then leaned back from the now deflating air bag before her. A smile of pride and surprise pulled at her mouth and she quickly undid her seatbelt to turn and check on her passengers.

Sat facing backwards and against the upright back of the stretcher, most of John's impact had been absorbed by the pillow and mattress behind him. He was dazed but had suffered no further damage.

Scott, on the other hand, had been thrown against the armrest and seatbelt of his side-facing chair and groaned as he slowly righted himself. He lifted his head and nodded at Alex. "Good job, dude."

Alex couldn't help but grin.

Scott smiled in understanding and turned to John. "You okay?"

John frowned in thought and considered the question for a moment. "I really don't know."

Scott sighed wearily and lifted his wrist comm. to his mouth. "All aboard, Virg."

"Yeah, we heard." Virgil replied, "Scott, you'd better get up here."

Scott nodded and stood carefully, grimacing as pulled muscles and bruised bones protested painfully. He paused beside John and turned to Alex.

"I'll watch him." Alex smiled.

Scott opened the back door and climbed down from the ambulance, hearing the cargo bay doors thud closed and staggering as the craft continued it's powerful ascent, pushing him down against the deck.

He headed round along the other side of the Firefly and peered through the gap to assess the damage. The two heavy machines were undamaged but they sort of owed London Ambulance Service a new set of wheels.

Scott made his way up to the flight deck and greeted his brothers. They visibly calmed at his presence but then indicated their concern on the radar. And two of the four craft could now be seen holding steady about half a mile away from them.

"Have they made their intentions clear?" Scott asked.

"Nothing." Virgil replied, "But no missile lock."

"Well," Scott sighed, "That's something at least."

"Maybe they're waiting for us to make the wrong move." Gordon thought out loud, "Trouble is, we don't know what the wrong move is."

The comm. then flashed and Virgil groaned slightly, "Maybe they're about to tell us." He leaned forward and opened the channel.

"Thunderbirds craft, this is Flight Sergeant Wellington, RAF. We stand ready to assist you."

The three men waited in silent disbelief.

"We are to offer you protection and kindly request details of your flight plan to arrange clear skies."

Virgil looked at Gordon. Gordon looked at Scott.

Scott grinned in delight. "Um … thanks. Thank you. We are … um … - "

"We understand the need for secrecy, Thunderbirds craft. We only wish to provide escort to ensure your safety. We do not wish to compromise your organisation."

Gordon punched the air in joy.

Virgil stared in wide-eyed disbelief at the comm.

Scott couldn't hold back a quick burst of laughter and placed a hand on each of his brother's shoulders. "Thank you. Stand by."

"Well?" Virgil turned to look up at Scott. "Where are we going?"

_tbc …_


	25. Chapter 25

_Sorry for the delay, chaps. Real life and responsibility has a tendency to creep up unannounced sometimes! Many thanks for those who have reviewed and apologies to those who are clinging to the edges of their seats ... I'm going to make you hold on just a little longer! _

* * *

Honesty, it seemed, really was the best policy.

A tired, bruised and (though he would never admit it) scared Scott had not known quite what to do. And so he had simply closed his eyes, shaken his head and told Flight Sergeant Wellington exactly that.

Virgil and Gordon had waited with baited breath; stunned at their elder brother and this out of character despondency and at a loss as to what might happen next.

Scott had then wearily expanded on his reply; telling the RAF pilot that they really had no clue where to go, what to do or who to trust. In the current climate, he was not even sure if he could place any faith in the four Harriers that hovered expectantly in formation around Thunderbird 2.

After a few minutes of deliberation among the small squadron and apparently a call back to their base for help, Flight Sergeant Wellington offered a suggestion.

And so now here they were.

Virgil shut down the engines and let out a heavy sigh. He turned to Gordon and, despite the mirrored concern in his brother's eyes, Virgil had to smile. He had never manoeuvred the immense craft into such a tight spot and he was, quite rightly, rather pleased with himself.

Gordon matched the smile and reached across to pat Virgil's shoulder. "Yeah, you're good."

Virgil shrugged off the compliment as modestly as his smug grin would allow.

Gordon laughed and stood from his chair. "I'm gonna go check on our passengers." He stretched slowly as he got to his feet and let out a groan of fatigue.

Virgil nodded in agreement and watched Gordon head from the flight deck. He then turned to see Scott staring blankly out through the front window. "You okay …?" Virgil ventured quietly.

Scott watched the hanger doors closing just metres in front of the nose of their enormous craft and took a deep breath. He then looked to Virgil and managed a thin smile. "I will be … when we're all safely back on the island."

Virgil nodded, "I hear ya, man."

Scott frowned and was lost in his thoughts for a moment. A comm. hail then broke the silence around them and he watched in interest as Virgil answered the call.

"Squadron Leader Hanover would like to meet you in the hanger to discuss your options." Flight Sergeant Wellington began, "Perhaps just one of you, to minimise exposure and protect your identities."

Scott smiled thinly, there seemed little point even worrying about keeping their organisation secret any longer. He looked up at Virgil and could see his younger brother's unspoken request clearly in his worried expression.

Scott leaned forward and opened the comm. channel. "Sure. I'll come down." He closed the connection and stood from his chair, noting Virgil's small smile of appreciation. "Get hold of Alan." Scott suggested quietly, "See if you can get an update on Dad."

Virgil nodded in agreement and immediately set to his task.

Scott took a deep breath and wandered through to the cargo bay. He stepped inside and beheld the unusual sight of a London ambulance quite literally squashed between the Thunderizer and the Firefly, the warning lights still spinning bright blue strobes of light around the bay. He stared at the pinned vehicle and shook his head in wonder; the slightest deviation to either the left or the right and the collision could well have been a lot messier. Alex had done well. As it was, the front of the cab was crushed in on both sides, the main bulk of the ambulance too solid in design to squeeze through the gap.

Scott stepped a little closer to the opposite end of the narrow corridor between the Thunderizer and the Firefly and frowned in confusion; he did not recall the front windscreen shattering and yet the toughened, smashed glass lay in its rubber frame on the floor in front of the disfigured cab. Scott then remembered Alex and knew what had happened; unable to exit from the crushed doors, she must have kicked the damaged glass out and climbed out the front of the cab.

Heading round the Firefly, Scott approached the oddly untouched rear of the ambulance and heard the voices within. He headed up to the open rear doors and peered inside. Alex was perched on the edge of the stretcher, cradling John in her arms and nestling her face in his hair. Scott's eyes moved from Alex's tearstained face to the pale form of his brother. John seemed worryingly quiet and Scott's heart leapt into his throat. He then saw the frown of discomfort that pulled at John's face and watched his grip tighten on Alex's arm.

"This is gonna need stitches." Gordon offered quietly.

Scott tore his gaze from John and suddenly registered that Gordon was kneeling on the floor of the ambulance beside Alex, gently cleaning a deep gash in her left calf. Scott thought back to the windscreen and shuddered.

"Scott?"

Scott looked up and saw Alex watching him expectantly.

"What's going on?"

Scott saw John glance at him momentarily and then sink back into Alex's embrace with a shudder. He stepped up closer to the ambulance and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "I guess we're gonna hide out here for a while." Scott shrugged.

"And where exactly is 'here'?" Alex frowned.

Scott paused for a moment, trying to read her angry expression and realising in empathy that pain and fear was causing her shortness. He nodded in understanding, without a comm. device she would of course have had no clue what was happening. "I'm sorry." The words seemed hollow in the echo of the cargo bay and he decided he ought to repeat them at some later, safer point. "RAF Northolt."

Alex's frown grew and then she suddenly smiled. "I guess we really got someone's attention."

"What d'you mean?" Scott queried, noting that Gordon was looking between them both in interest.

"Northolt is the Royal Squadron." Alex replied, "They don't let just any old folk land here."

"Cool!" Gordon enthused.

Scott smiled and turned to head towards the cargo bay doors and his access down into the hanger, hoping that they were at long last getting the break they so desperately needed. He glanced back as he reached the edge of the hangar and smiled in delight as he saw just how tight a squeeze it had been to fit the giant green craft into the barely big enough space. Virgil had indeed done well.

* * *

Separating the three of them was a wise tactical move, Penny had to grant the impostor that much at least. She made no attempt to struggle as she was led through to the dining room and secured firmly to one of the antique French mahogany high back chairs.

The woman stood before her, waving off the man that had tied Penny's arms tightly behind her.

Penny looked up in interest, frowning as she tried to work out whom this strange likeness of her might be. Brains' reaction had intrigued her even further but they had been separated before he had chance to reveal what he knew. Now Penny found herself searching for any genetic similarity to Fermat in the woman's apparently surgically altered face.

"I've deciphered the codes and have gained access to your wonderful toys." The woman began calmly, "I especially love your fabulous car." She giggled slightly and then cleared her throat, regaining her composure. "But to really _be_ you, I'm going to need a lot more than gadgetry."

Penny listened in silence.

"Now, I have a list of your contacts but I'm sure a clever girl like you has got all sorts of secret passwords and club handshakes." The woman continued. "And you're going to tell me _all _of them."

Penny nodded slowly, considering her words. "Or …?"

The woman laughed, "Oh, don't be so silly! I've got Jeff and Professor Hackenbacker back there!" She pointed out beyond the room and her smile faded. "Do I really have to spell it out …?"

Penny watched her for a moment. "What is it? What is the link between you and the Professor?"

"He was my way in." The woman replied, "Nothing more."

Penny studied the woman's face and was sure she could see her blushing slightly. "But … I don't understand … if you _like_ him, why do this to him?" She saw the slight hesitation and the anger that flashed in the woman's eyes and the answer was suddenly so obvious. Penny nodded slowly, "A woman scorned, eh?"

The slap was hard and Penny gasped in shock as the world spun around her briefly. Her cheek was stinging painfully as she sat back upright and glared defiantly up at her captor.

"It doesn't matter what my reasons are," The woman argued a little shrilly, "The fact is that you are my prisoner and I will cause harm to your friends unless you tell me what I want to know. Honestly! How hard is that?"

"I don't believe you." Penny countered softly.

"What!"

Penny took a deep breath and shook her head. "I don't believe that you will harm them."

"I …" The woman stepped back from her, unsure how to respond.

"I think you are a small part of this whole operation and you may even be a captive yourself, forced into helping the people behind this plot in exchange for a lesser sentence." Penny watched for a reaction and thought she saw what she was hoping for. "I think you are smarter than they give you credit for and you have found a way to escape their hold on you. This now has nothing to do with the original plan. This is you working for your own ends."

"I … um …" The woman backed up further and the back of her legs caught the edge of a spare chair at the side of the room. She sat down heavily and let out a slight sob.

"I am right, am I not?" Penny prompted.

The woman hung her head and nodded slightly.

Penny smiled in delight and then her concern wiped the pleasure from her flushed face. "We can help each other now … find a way out of this together."

The woman looked up slowly. "How?"

Penny shrugged, "Well, what is the plan? What are your orders?"

"Oh, I am not falling for that one!" The woman stood back up suddenly, drawing a small pistol from the pocket of her jacket and aiming it directly at Penny. "I tell you the plans and then you back out of your end of the bargain, leaving me royally screwed!"

"No!" Penny shook her head emphatically, "You have my word, I will - "

"Your _word_?" The woman advanced on Penny once again, "What good is the word of a prisoner trying desperately to escape!"

"I …" Penny stared in fear at the barrel of the fast approaching pistol and decided perhaps she ought to now be quiet.

The woman stopped a metre or so short of Penny and suddenly sighed in dismay. She put the pistol back in her pocket and raised her hands in a gesture of calm. "Listen … this was never how it was supposed to be … " She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "It was all supposed to be so different … Thunderbird 1 would see the facility, come back to investigate and be implicated in an explosion. The various agencies would become involved and International Rescue would be forced to suspend operations pending investigation and subsequent exposure and collapse." She sighed heavily, "None of the rest of it was supposed to happen … I really don't know what went wrong."

Penny watched with baited breath, the pieces of the whole messy puzzle of the past week beginning to somehow fit into place.

"It was so well thought out and meticulously planned … I don't understand where the plan failed."

Penny took a deep breath and shrugged her shoulders. "I think perhaps there were a few players who were not playing the parts they were given."

The woman nodded slightly. "Perhaps …"

"I mean …" Penny frowned in thought, "How can you be sure of anyone capable of the things that have been done? How can you trust people who lie and deceive for their own gain?"

"You mean you."

Penny smiled thinly, "Indeed. Even me." She sighed and shook her head slowly. "But you have to ask yourself whether you would want to be caught up in a scheme with the sole purpose of destroying an organisation who's only intention is to help people, to save lives."

And now it seemed the woman was cringing with embarrassment or even guilt.

"What?" Penny frowned in concern. "What is it?"

The woman shrugged slightly, suddenly uncomfortable under Penny's gaze. "Some people can be most … persuasive …"

"Money?"

"Sometimes."

Penny thought back over what the woman had said and how she had reacted to Brains. "Recognition?"

"Perhaps."

Penny nodded in understanding.

"I am very clever, you know." The woman expanded suddenly, "And scientific discovery is a very hard avenue to pursue – especially for a woman. No matter what the propaganda might tell you."

Science, Penny thought to herself, that explains the Brains link at last.

"There are only two basic routes a genius can take, you know. You use your talent for the good of mankind – a rather exclusive club – or you use it to exploit people." She laughed quietly, "Guess which one is easier …"

Penny watched her for a moment, suddenly able to understand her and wanting to know more about her. If she was as smart as Brains and could be convinced to help them out, she could potentially be a valuable ally. "What if I was to give you a third option?"

The woman watched her expectantly. "Go on."

"What if - "

And then it all happened. So fast that Penny barely had time to register what was occurring, let alone warn anyone. Parker suddenly appeared at the door to the dining room, having apparently escaped his captors. The woman saw him and spun to face him and it seemed this was the whole idea, for Jeff then ran headlong into the dining room from the concealed entrance on the other side. The woman panicked, drew her pistol and fired.

Parker flew backwards with the force of the bullet impact and landed in a heap on the hall floor. Jeff leapt at the woman and rugby tackled her to the ground, reaching for her weapon and gasping in shock as it fired again. They struggled together on the antique silk rug that crumpled and slid over the polished oak floorboards. Finally Jeff caught her in a solid grip and she sank against the floor in submission.

Jeff looked up and saw with relief that Parker was slowly pulled himself up, groaning in discomfort and annoyance. He couldn't help but smile as he watched the greying man glaring at him in angrily and Parker then reached up under his jacket to pull free the ornate silver tray that had saved his life.

Parker studied the dented tray and the bullet squashed against it and groaned loudly, tossing the tray aside in disgust. "Just in _case_, eh?" Parker growled.

Jeff chuckled, more in delight that the beloved old guy was okay than amusement at the situation. "Well, it worked, didn't it?"

"Hmph!" Parker replied.

Jeff struggled to his knees and sat astride his prisoner. "Give us a hand, then."

"Alright, alright!" Parker groaned and reached up to grab the door handle to pull himself up onto his feet. He continued his grumbling as he stood and brushed his suit down and then began forwards but he then paused and gasped in shock.

Jeff froze. He didn't dare look in the direction of Parker's devastated stare but suddenly he knew what it was that the butler had seen.

"M'Lady!" Parker choked dryly and leapt forward to hurry across the room.

_tbc ..._


	26. Chapter 26

Without a moment's hesitation, Jeff abandoned his quarry and scrabbled over to Penny. He held his breath as he watched Parker gently cupping her chin and lifting her heavy head, blood from the wound at her temple trickling down her cheek.

"Oh god - " Jeff reached her side and looked up into her pale face, his heart sinking.

Parker reached behind Penny and grabbed a lacy napkin from the long dining table. He pressed the white cloth against the bleeding wound and both men sighed in relief as Penny flinched in response.

"Sorry, m'Lady." Parker offered softly, frowning at her in concern as her eyes blinked open.

"Goodness … that smarts rather." Penny smiled thinly.

"Oh, thank god!" Jeff groaned and rested his head against her arm with another sigh of relief.

"Oh, you Americans and your over-exaggeration!" Penny suddenly offered lightly. "I'm fine! I've got a tough bonce, y'know."

Parker indicated for Jeff to take over applying pressure to the wound and then hurried round to free Penny's hands.

Jeff watched Penny for a moment, seeing the pain behind her smile. "Bonce?" He queried in sudden amusement.

"Bonce." Penny nodded, wincing at the pain the action caused. "Noggin." She chuckled at his confusion, "Head." She sighed in mock exasperation and then her hands were suddenly untied and she reached up to replace Jeff's hand with her own.

Jeff paused for a moment, worry – and a whole lot of anger – pulling at his tired face.

"I'll be _fine_." Penny urged, her heart racing as she saw the fury that nestled amid the sadness of his weary expression.

Jeff conceded slowly and sat back from her, noting the shift in her gaze and then suddenly remembering his prisoner. He spun round and was surprised to see the woman still sprawled on the floor, watching the three of them warily.

"I guess I am rather fortunate that you are such a rotten aim." Penny commented merrily.

The woman shook her head emphatically, slowly rolling onto her knees. "I really didn't – I mean, I wasn't - "

"I know." Penny agreed quietly.

Jeff turned back to Penny, more than a little confused.

Penny smiled at him and shrugged her shoulders. "We were just starting to get acquainted. And then you two brutes come charging in to rescue me." She rolled her eyes and instantly regretted doing so, clutching her head in slight annoyance.

Parker stood beside Penny, his perplexity almost perfectly matching Jeff's.

"I must say, the surgeon's work is rather good." Penny continued, in a tone far lighter than Parker and Jeff evidently deemed suitable for the situation.

Jeff's frown grew and he looked between Penny and the Penny look-a-like. "So you know …"

"Oh, it's obvious!" Penny laughed suddenly, "I mean, I must admit I am rather ashamed of myself for taking as long as I did in deducing her identity."

Jeff was speechless, watching Penny with an incredulous bafflement and wondering if perhaps most of her brain had indeed been blasted from her head.

"And you, Parker," Penny turned and smiled up at him. "Why, you've quite let the side down."

"I have?" Parker stumbled, looking across at the woman and shrugging his shoulders, still none the wiser.

"Indeed." Penny giggled mischievously, "I will talk to you later about exactly how you allowed yourself to be so compromised." She shot him a cheeky smile and then slowly stood, swaying a little unsteadily as she did so. Having taken a moment to catch her breath, she then walked past Jeff and leaned down to retrieve the small pistol from the folds of the dishevelled silk rug.

"Wait! I meant what I said!" The woman recoiled suddenly, raising her hands above her head in a mixture of defence and surrender. "About your offer. I'll do it."

"Oh, I _know_ you will." Penny agreed quietly, the merriment suddenly gone. She crouched down and removed the napkin from her forehead, examining the blood-soaked material for a moment and frowning in irritation. She then looked back up at the woman and all traces of her smile had vanished.

"I'm sorry." The woman offered suddenly, her head dropping to her chest with a slight sob.

Penny leaned closer and waited patiently for the woman to look back up at her. "One wrong move and it won't be me you have to worry about." She saw the fear in the eyes that regarded her warily and swallowed hard. She turned her head so her colleagues could not read her lips and dropped her voice to all but a whisper to say quickly: "Fuck with us again and I'll tell them _exactly_ who you are."

It was all she needed to say. The woman glanced at Jeff and suddenly knew precisely what Penny was suggesting.

"Jemima Featherstone." Penny announced suddenly, getting back up onto her feet and turning to Jeff with a smile.

Jeff still looked confused. "Is that name supposed to mean something …?"

"Featherstone …" Parker echoed quietly, realisation then coming to him with a gasp of surprise. "Of course!"

Penny nodded and glanced back briefly at the woman still cowering before her, silently urging her to please – for the love of god – play along.

"She was that crazy college nut that was stalking Professor Hackenbacker a few years back." Parker explained hurriedly. "He was her tutor at MIT and she claimed that he'd stolen some of her ideas."

Jeff frowned in thought, "I think I remember something of that … but …"

Penny watched the woman warily, waiting for a response.

"He _did _steal my designs!" The woman urged suddenly, lifting her head to glare defiantly at the three of them. "I was only trying to prove that when the police then arrested me. They deported me back here and I've spent all this time trying to find a way to get revenge. My whole career was ruined!"

Penny held her breath as she slowly turned to try and gauge Jeff and Parker's reactions. The woman's performance was pantomime at best and Penny knew she would have to try and throw in some prompts to ensure the two men could be convinced. Brains, on the other hand, was a whole different matter.

Parker stepped forward and shook his head in dismay as he looked down at the woman before them. "You created a lot of trouble back then, missy. And now you're looking to start some more, eh?"

The woman looked up at Penny for assistance.

"Actually," Penny answered lightly, "Jemima is going to work for us, now."

The woman nodded emphatically, "I can help you track down the people that tried to destroy you."

"And in return?" Jeff demanded.

"We let her go." Penny replied quickly, "No questions asked."

Jeff regarded the pair of them suspiciously and then slowly nodded in agreement. "Fine."

"Good." Penny sighed in relief, "Now … where's Brains?"

* * *

Scott sat in the small office and sipped at his coffee, glad for the refreshment but also acutely aware of the needs of the others that remained hidden inside Thunderbird 2. Deciding that he would take something back for them upon his return, Scott forced the guilt from his thoughts and turned his attention back to the two personnel sat opposite him.

Flight Sergeant Wellington was much younger than he had expected and had shaken his hand with enthusiasm, evidently unable to restrain her delight at meeting him despite the precarious circumstances.

Squadron Leader Hanover was far more reserved, and something of a cliché with his enormous frame and well-groomed moustache. Scott was almost too tired to hold back the amused giggle that had leapt into his throat when they had first met.

"It's been all over the news for the past twenty minutes or so." Wellington continued and stood to switch on the old style television set that was suspended from a bracket near the top of the office wall.

Scott looked up and watched with fascination as indeed every news channel was running a similar report; images of the Thunderbirds craft at various rescues, hastily edited together with a narration telling of their wonders and the scrolling headline at the bottom of the screen explaining the exclusive news.

"Everyone's talking about it." Wellington smiled down at Scott and took her seat again. "It seems most of the world is on your side."

Scott nodded silently, trying to take it all in and wondering how their father was going to react to it all. He had been adamant after the attack on Thunderbird 5 that they should keep their anonymity and not chance their security by asking for help with repairs. They had lied to the British and American governments during the subsequent investigation in London and although he knew why their father had ordered them to do so, he could also understand why that might have slightly upset the various agencies involved.

"They're saying it's a conspiracy to destroy you." Hanover offered softly.

Scott suddenly smiled and put down his coffee. "That's sure what it feels like, sir."

Wellington frowned in concern, "And you've no idea who or why or - "

"Nothing," Scott shrugged, "It could be a small few crazies … it could be the entire espionage world."

"Not our guys, surely?" Wellington urged, "I mean, it was MI5 that called us in to protect you."

Hanover smiled suddenly, "But they could have done so to cover their own arses."

Scott nodded, "Welcome to our world."

"Hmm." Hanover frowned intensely, "Well … if there's a way that _we_ can prove that we're on your side, let us know … in the meantime, you're free to hide here or leave … it's your choice."

"Thanks," Scott shrugged slightly, "It's nothing personal. I mean, there's nothing more that I'd like other than to believe you but …" He sighed heavily.

"No offence taken." Hanover smiled.

Scott nodded his appreciation and then remembered John and Alex. "There is one thing, though – you guys got any medics or supplies?"

Wellington frowned in concern.

"Sorry." Hanover shrugged, "We're 32 Squadron, Royal and VIP protection and transport. Just us lads and a few private aircraft." He turned to Wellington, "Unless you chaps have anything that can help?"

"Just the four Harriers." Wellington watched Scott worriedly and shook her head in dismay. "Someone's hurt?"

Scott nodded. "It's why we were in London – for St Thomas'. But they found us and we had to get out of there."

"You should have said." She sighed, "I'm so sorry, if we'd known, we could have escorted you to a military hospital or - "

Scott raised his hand and smiled, "It's not your fault."

"Well, we can still take you." Wellington stood quickly, "There's one not far from here and - "

"Thanks but no." Scott responded softly, "I think, under the circumstances, we're safer where there's less people."

Hanover nodded slowly, "I guess you've got as much to fear from your fans, now."

Scott paused for a moment. Fans? Suddenly images of rescues being hindered by hordes of adoring autograph-seekers filled his thoughts and he shuddered. Nope. Dad wasn't going to like this one little bit.

"I bet you'd like to meet the chap that leaked the story." Hanover offered in amusement.

Scott gripped the arm of his chair and forced himself to take a deep, steady breath.

* * *

Once freed, Brains had headed straight for the concealed comm. panel in Penny's study and was deep in conversation with Alan as Penny strode into the room behind him.

"It's okay," Brains urged softly, "We'll be heading h-h-h-to the island soon and we'll come get you."

Penny looked at the comm. screen and saw the worried, ashen face of the youngest of the Tracy family. She sighed in dismay but it only served to prove that her decision was correct and Jeff could not be allowed to know who it was they had in custody; there was no way he could be trusted to stay calm where his family was at stake. Not that she blamed him.

The conversation was coming to a natural conclusion and Penny waited patiently. She watched Brains sign off and then smiled as he turned to her.

Brains stood slowly and offered a slight shrug of reassurance. "Scott and the others are hiding out in L-L-L-RAF Northolt. They're waiting for orders."

Penny nodded slowly. "And poor Alan …?"

Brains smiled suddenly, "He hasn't got Virgil's un-un-un-patience or John's maturity. He's too much like Scott. Or Mr Tracy." He sighed noisily, "But he'll be okay and back to his usual self once he's home and having a good rant about being st-st-st-assigned to the station during all this."

Penny regarded Brains fondly for a moment and nodded slightly, "You have a good way with him."

"Only because _my_ son explains him to me." Brains countered and then took a deep breath, shaking off his concerns as he turned to the task at hand. "So … what's our next move?"

"He can't know, Hiram." Penny began suddenly.

Brains paused and frowned down at her.

"I know you know who she is."

Brains' shoulders sank and he turned away from her. "I had hoped I was wr-wr-wr-mistaken …"

Penny shook her head slowly and watched him sit back down at the comm. console that had returned to its disguise as an old writing bureau.

"She has links to whoever is behind this," Penny continued softly, stepping across to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. "She could be a valuable resource to us."

Brains looked up at Penny and frowned dubiously.

"I told them she's Jemima Featherstone."

Brains shuddered involuntarily and looked down at his hands.

"She fits the profile and we already have an explanation as to her not looking anything like Jemima …" Penny watched Brains studying his hands, deep in thought, and she then chuckled softly, "Honestly, Professor! You do have a knack of attracting crazy women!"

Brains smiled briefly, the momentary amusement then suddenly replaced with sadness.

"I'm sorry." Penny offered quietly, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"No, it's okay …" Brains glanced up at her and forced his smile back. "You're r-r-r-you have a point … the only 'normal' one was … well … I wouldn't have Fermat if …" He was lost for a moment in a distant memory and then suddenly shook himself back to the present.

"You know I'm right about this." Penny urged carefully.

Brains looked up again into her sombre face. "What … about lying to them all?"

Penny sighed and closed her eyes. "God, you _know_ what he's like! And after all that they've been through, if they knew - "

"If they knew it was _her …_" Brains echoed quietly.

"She started all this, Brains … she found the way into the fortress and paved the way through for everything else that has happened …"

"When you put it that way," Brains looked down at his hands, "I wouldn't mind getting a piece of revenge for myself …"

Penny watched him warily for a moment. "We're better than that." She insisted softly, "And Jeff will understand why we - "

"Why we don't tell him that that _thing _in there is Transom." Brains concluded sadly.

Penny nodded slowly. "Not Jeff, not Alan, not Scott, not John - " She closed her eyes and felt tears welling as the memories flooded in, and she was almost too tired to keep them abated. "Because god knows _what_ they will do to her …"

_Tbc …_


	27. Chapter 27

_The pace slows a little for this one as things start to come to a close. But, after all they've been through I think they deserve a reprieve ... all be it a brief one ...! __Many thanks to all those who have reviewed and I hope this chapter doesn't cause some of you to reach for the nitroglycerine or the sedatives - although the idea of that is both amusing and flattering!_

* * *

The list was detailed and suddenly, for a long, tired moment, seemed endless.

Penny read again through the names, organisations and companies that had apparently gladly assisted in the almost downfall of International Rescue.

Almost. She repeated the word silently, trying to tell herself that these people had not succeeded. Almost.

"Hey …"

Penny smiled thinly, unsurprised that he had sought her out. He had needed to call his sons and hear their voices for himself and she had been glad of the excuse. Glad that she could extract the necessary information from Transom without fear of revealing the woman's true identity to an already pushed to the limit Jeff.

Jeff paused at the door to the dining room for a moment, a slight frown of concern pulling at his tired face. He watched Penny studying the treasured results of her interrogation and was suddenly too intrigued to wait politely.

Penny held her breath as Jeff wandered inside the room and veered around the large table to approach her chair from behind. He peered over her shoulder and she waited in uncertainty for a reaction as he read her untidy script.

"Well …" Jeff sighed loudly and dragged the fingers of both hands back across his close-cropped, thinning hair. "That's a lot of people …" His hands fell down as if to his side but stopped half way and rested gently on Penny's sunken shoulders.

"I suppose we should be grateful that she is evidently void of all loyalty." Penny agreed quietly.

Jeff gave a small, weary laugh. "Yeah, but how far can you trust someone so obviously untrustworthy?"

Penny looked again at the names. "About as far as you could throw them." And, oh, how she would love to test that experiment sometime soon, preferably somewhere near the edge of a very high cliff.

Jeff squeezed Penny's shoulders gently.

"All we can do," Penny observed, laying the paper on cloth covered oak table, "Is check out each and every one."

"Not alone, though."

Penny chuckled gently, "Good god, no! That would take an age! I'll contact a few sources of my own and get the ball rolling, so to speak." She closed her eyes and allowed herself a small smile at the analogy, suddenly imaging a rather huge ball, huge enough to, say, roll along and crush a certain person.

Another soft squeeze of her shoulders and an almost successfully stifled yawn. "I need to get home."

Penny nodded slowly.

"Where is she?"

Penny's heart rate suddenly kicked up a gear and she reached up to grasp one of the hands that rested either side of her neck, instinct telling her to get hold of him and keep him close; as much for his protection as to prevent the nightmare of revelation and possible murder. Not that she would try very hard to stop him.

"In the study with Brains. He is going over her equipment and double checking exactly what the hardware is capable of." Penny replied carefully, "She has created some rather worrying devices and we … well, we need to ensure that they are neutralised."

Jeff nodded thoughtfully, "And she's just some crazy college student?"

"Well …" Penny closed her eyes, "That was a good few years ago … and just look at her contacts. She has had time and help enough from some rather powerful people to plot her revenge." Penny sighed and shook her head sadly; "Although one wonders if perhaps she would not have been such a danger to us if she had never crossed his path."

"His?"

Penny's heart sank.

"You said 'his'?" Jeff removed his hands from her shoulders and moved round her chair to look down at her.

"Yes, I meant these chaps." Penny retorted quickly – but calmly. She nodded towards the list of names and smiled in careful reassurance.

Jeff followed her gaze, studied the names for a moment and then looked back up at her tired face. "Pen …" he crouched down before her with a sigh, "What are you not telling me?"

Penny sat forward and forced her smile to grow to precisely the right convincible size. "Nothing, Jeff, darling." She reached out and placed a hand on his cheek to clinch the deal. "Nothing. I promise." And suddenly something inside her began to hurt as she realised she would have to apologise for that mother of a lie later but, right then, that prospect seemed anything but awful.

Jeff looked up into her kind face and leaned his head into her touch. "I'm sorry." He offered almost silently. "I'm so sorry. I just wish … god, I wish this was all over."

Penny leaned further forward and placed her free hand on the other side of his face. "It very nearly is." She offered softly.

And there they stayed for a long moment, their eyes locked in each other's gaze and their faces impossibly close. It would have been so simple for either of them to just move that little bit further forwards and …

"Pen." Jeff began again quietly, reaching up and placing one hand gently over her fingers. "What are we doing…?"

And the usually so confident and so quick to retort Penny suddenly had no answer. She looked into his face and thought she saw something there that she had not noticed before. Or maybe once. Long ago.

And then it was gone and he was moving away from her, standing and arching his weary body with a loud yawn. "Are the cops on their way?"

Penny smiled and swallowed back the lump that had defiantly forced its way into her throat.

Jeff turned and watched her nod a reply. "Good. I'm gonna go check Parker still has your uninvited guests safely secured."

And Penny watched him leave, telling herself that her exhaustion was making her see things that simply were not there. And trying to convince herself that she was not disappointed with this conclusion.

* * *

The crunching and screeching of protesting metal sent shudders through Scott and he cupped his hands over his ears as he waited a safe distance inside the cargo hold. Slowly and carefully the ambulance was winched free of its wedged position between the powerful hardware.

Broken glass and shards of metal dripped onto the cargo bay floor as the ambulance was pulled clear and Scott stepped forward to examine the damage to the Thunderizer and the Firefly. Short of a few scratches to the paintwork, both vehicles were otherwise unharmed and he smiled in satisfaction before then following the retreating ambulance down the ramp.

The sturdy jeep reversed clear of the descending ambulance, it's winch no longer needed as Virgil carefully guided the battered vehicle down the ramp. Steering the damaged front chassis was all but impossible but the brakes worked fine and he let the ambulance roll slowly down into the hangar, bringing it to a halt at the end of the ramp. The snug fit of Thunderbird 2 inside the large building would not allow much manoeuvring but Sergeant Wellington then kicked the jeep into gear again and dragged the ambulance clear, the tyres squealing on the concrete floor as the ruined ambulance protested against the sharp turn.

Virgil climbed out gingerly through the open front of the cab, careful to avoid traces of the broken windscreen. Brushing his gloved hands in satisfaction, he then turned and winced when saw the extent of the damage.

Wellington stepped down from the jeep and wandered over to them. "We'll have to get a recovery vehicle to take it back to the station."

Virgil nodded, still examining the crushed front of the ambulance and guessing that it was beyond repair. He then heard Scott approaching and turned towards him. "You think we ought to leave an 'I.O.U.' on the front seat?"

Scott laughed gently, "Absolutely!" He jogged to the bottom of the ramp and then crouched down before the front of the ruined vehicle. "She's a goner."

"Ah. Did I kill the ambulance?"

Virgil turned and saw Alex heading out of the office towards them. He nodded sombrely, a small smile pulling at his mouth. "Yeah, poor thing. And what did she _ever_ do to you?"

Alex hurried over to them, shaking her head in dismay. "Sorry, mate." She offered, moving past the two men to pat the front of the wrecked vehicle softly, "Nothing personal."

"Bit late for that." Virgil laughed, "She's dead."

Alex shot him a mock glare and sighed loudly. "What _is _it with blokes and assigning femininity to machinery?"

Wellington mumbled in agreement.

Scott glanced at Virgil, a cheeky grin forming. "Well," he shrugged, "They need a hell of lot of maintenance, they're temperamental, they're not happy unless they've got a skilled operator - "

"Wo!" Alex laughed loudly, "That's quite enough, thank you!" She grinned in delight at the welcome break in all the tension that had fallen around them and patted his arm. "You need to get out more."

"Couldn't agree more." Scott smiled merrily, "Name the place and the time, bud!" He turned to Wellington hopefully and raised one inquisitive eyebrow.

Wellington laughed nervously and shook her head. "Oh no … that way lays only trouble, I'm sure."

"With a capital T." Virgil chimed in.

Scott opened his mouth to protest and then decided not to bother. He smiled happily, nodded to indicate that he was filing all their cheek away to be paid back at some other point and turned back to the matter at hand. "I think a note would indeed be proper. I'll go get some paper from 'Chocks Away' in there."

Virgil watched Scott depart and frowned in amusement. "Chocks-a-what?"

Wellington giggled mischievously. "He means the C.O. of this squadron – he is something of an antique."

"Not like your planes." Virgil offered, pointing to somewhere beyond the closed hangar doors. "What are they? GR.9s?"

Wellington grinned in delight. "Yeah! Mark IVs." She stepped towards him and frowned in intrigue.

Virgil nodded with enthusiasm. "So they've got the new Pegasus Mk.109 engine?"

"Yeah." Wellington affirmed merrily. "They're amazing. Although," She nodded towards the giant green bulk of Thunderbird 2 and laughed gently, "Nothing compared to this beauty."

Virgil shrugged a thank you and glanced at his craft.

Alex watched in amusement as they wander off towards the front of the hangar, deep in jet-fuelled discussion as they headed off to look at the new RAF craft that were parked outside. She then glanced up into the gaping mouth of Thunderbird 2's open cargo bay and her smile faded.

John seemed to be sleeping as Alex approached the small makeshift med lab. She watched as the youngest of the four brothers fussed around John, checking the data on the monitoring equipment and adjusting the flow of one of the IV lines.

"How's he doing?" Alex asked carefully.

Gordon spun at her voice, glaring defensively. He then recognised her and relaxed, if but a little. "Oh … hi."

Alex smiled carefully, acutely aware that Gordon was still somewhat unsure about her. Not that she would not have been in his place.

Gordon turned to look at John and shook his head slowly. "I know you said there was little choice but … I don't think moving him helped much."

Alex couldn't help the immediate protest that sprung to mind but she kept the thought to herself and shrugged slightly.

"Gord."

They both turned and watched John shaking his head slowly. Alex stepped a little closer and was aware of Gordon watching her from the corner of his eye.

"I'm fine." John opened his eyes and looked up at his brother with a thin smile.

"_Fine_?" Gordon protested angrily, "Dude, you - "

"Gord!" John urged with a weary sigh.

"It's okay." Alex stepped closer to Gordon and could see him fighting back tears. "I know you're scared but - "

"No!" Gordon retreated from her and shook his head in angry defiance. "You don't know anything! And you _can't_ know! Not now. Not after all this."

Alex nodded slowly, unable to argue with a fear and mistrust that she could well understand.

John pulled himself up to sit on the edge of the bed, biting his lip against the pain of the movement and taking a moment to catch his breath. "Gord, please …"

"What?" Gordon turned to his brother and his anger faded momentarily as he watched John struggling against exhaustion and discomfort. "John …" he continued, somewhat calmer, "I just want to go home."

"I know, buddy, I know." John smiled up at him. "So do I. But we need to wait until it's safe." He watched Gordon throw Alex a wary glance and John shook his head. "So you don't know Alex." He offered softly, "But I do."

Alex smiled and ventured closer to the bed. She could sense Gordon tensing and tried to ignore the hurt that his continued doubt caused. It was to be expected after all that had happened.

Gordon considered his brothers words for a moment and then nodded begrudgingly. "I'm gonna call in again. See when we can get the hell out of here."

John watched him leave and sighed in dismay. He turned to Alex and offered what he could of a shrug.

"It's okay." Alex carefully sat down on the bed beside him and took one of his hands in her own. "He's scared."

John's smile faded. "And, boy, do I get that …"

Alex reached her free hand up to stroke a tangled clump of hair back from his temple. "So … what are the chances of a long vacation?"

"Oh man …" John's smile made a welcome return. "I need to sleep for about a month!"

"Absolutely!" Alex laughed softly, "And I need a beach and an endless supply of sunshine, cocktails and no hassle for … well, forever, actually!"

John chuckled slightly, "Funny you should say that." He turned to her and raised one eyebrow in intrigue.

Alex's smile disappeared and she looked down at their entwined hands. "I can't."

"Why?"

"I can't just leave!" Alex urged.

"Why?"

Alex looked back up at him and saw the sincerity in his tired eyes. "Well, there's my job and the clearing up of all this mess. And my mum."

John considered this for a moment and then nodded slowly, unable to find a logical dispute to her reasoning.

"Besides …" Alex resumed the task of gently finger-combing his hair into some sort of order. "I think your family would be less than welcoming to a total stranger after all that's happened."

"You're not a stranger." John countered.

"You know what I mean."

John watched her for a moment and blinked away the sudden tears that had seized the opportunity to slip past his fatigue. "So … you're just going to leave?"

Alex was lost for words and could only shrug something of an apology and perhaps an affirmation. She watched in dismay as John closed his eyes and hung his head. Her heart pounding in her ears, she gently placed an arm around his waist and held her breath as he leaned into her embrace.

Hurried footfalls up the ramp and through the cargo hold then intrigued them both and they looked up to watch Scott and Virgil racing up to the door to the small lab.

"What?" Scott demanded breathlessly, "What's the panic?"

"Where's Gord?" Virgil echoed in equal distress.

"Here."

They all turned and watched Gordon emerging from the flight deck, his face clouded with worry.

"What is it?" Scott urged, "What's the emergency?"

"I just spoke to Alan." Gordon began with an eerie calm. "They know where we are. They're coming."

"What?" Scott and Virgil demanded together.

"Who?" Virgil asked quickly. "And how? I mean, we're shielded." He looked to his other brothers in alarm. "Aren't we?"

Gordon nodded slowly, "The anti-detection shield is on. It was a coded transmission." He turned his gaze to Alex and his face darkened. "On the police band."

_Tbc …_


	28. Chapter 28

_Okay, the penultimate chapter.Things are starting to come to a close. But might I suggest that those of you with a portable defib plug it in and charge to 300 before reading this! Glad you're having as much fun reading as I am writing.And many thanks for saying as much in your reviews.

* * *

_

Turning the small remote device over in his hands, Brains could feel anger welling inside him and the adrenaline was beginning to cause his fingers to tremble.

It was so stupid. Stupid and naive. He had all of their hardware and software integrated using the same scrambled transmission frequency. Once she had cracked the code, she had gained control of all of it. Of course, he had altered the frequency after the island siege but still there was a weakness in the link that all the equipment shared.

And he should have known better. No. He was better. Better than that. Better than _her_.

"Your designs have been copied by many different agencies." Transom offered carefully. "It wasn't hard to find all that had been stolen."

Brains closed his eyes and put down the transmitter.

"And recreating functioning replicas was easy once I had financial backing."

Brains looked up at her and frowned in intrigue. Her face told it all. She wasn't gloating in her confession. She was trying to apologise. And he suddenly wanted to laugh.

"I didn't know what he intended to do with all that I had created."

Brains watched her for a moment, his heart racing as he realised just who she was talking about.

"He offered a channel for my talents," Transom continued quietly, her nervous banter taking her down a path that she was somehow unable to stop. "And by the time I realised what his plan was … it was too late …"

Brains snorted in disgust and stood from his chair, turning away from her and heading for the door.

"Please!" Transom pleaded suddenly, "You have to believe me!"

"Why?" He turned back to face her, his pale face filled with contempt and increasing anger.

Transom looked away from the fury that was directed at her and stared down at her tightly bound hands. "Because I couldn't bear it if you - "

"Oh, give me a break!" Brains shouted suddenly, advancing on her and raising his fist as if to strike. Something stopped him and he paused before her, shaking his head in dismay.

"I didn't know." Transom repeated faintly, sniffing back tears. "I thought … I thought, after the tracing material on Thunderbird 1 led us back to the island that it would be a simple siege - "

"_Simple_?" Brains demanded angrily, "You nearly killed - " He stopped suddenly and closed his eyes, unsure why he was even bothering to continue conversing with someone so obviously far removed from sanity.

"But I didn't." Transom looked up at him and a thin smile danced on her lips. "I deliberately aimed the rocket a little off target … and I waited until the optimum moment to cut the station loose, to give them time, give _you_ time …"

Brains stared at her incredulously. "You really th-th-expect me to believe that?"

Transom searched his face and shrugged slightly. "I didn't expose the children."

"What?"

Transom smiled nervously. "I heard John and Jeff talking about them, in the transmission I decoded and located Thunderbird 5 with. I knew your children were there."

Brains clenched his fists at his side and closed his eyes, desperately trying to stay calm and in control.

"It broke my heart to be forced to endanger them."

And that was enough. She had crossed the line. Brains advanced on her with a cry of fury and slapped her hard. So hard she almost toppled from her chair.

Brains watched her slowly right herself and he groaned in disappointment, both from his actions and from the fact that it had not helped. Perhaps he had expected hitting her to feel good but instead he only felt further anger. An empty anger that sat uneasily in his stomach.

Transom blotted her split lip with her bound hands and shuddered as she looked back up at him.

Brains raised his hand again and then suddenly sighed in dismay. "Ugh, you're not _worth_ it!"

Transom watched him turn away from her and bit back the sob that rose in her throat. "What … what will happen to me now?"

"I don't give a cr-cr-cr - " Brains sighed loudly. "I don't care."

"He'll come after me."

Brains sniggered slightly. "I doubt that." He glanced back and saw her confusion. "He's dead."

Transom considered this for a moment, her horror growing. "Are you sure?"

"Very."

"Really?" Transom urged, "I mean, he was supposedly dead before and - "

"Not this time." Brains turned back to her. "A bullet through the br-br-br-head is pretty irrevocable."

It took a moment for his words to sink in and then slowly Transom smiled, her whole demeanour changing. She laughed gently and grinned in delight as she beheld Brains' sincere face.

And something behind him then stole her gaze.

Brains turned in intrigue to look at what she had seen and then gasped as suddenly she was on her feet and slamming into him. As he toppled, he caught sight of the figure at the door and groaned in dismay as he realised his error; it must have been her plan all along to keep him distracted, to let her accomplice approach unseen and wait for the opportune moment.

Brains saw the gun as her momentum shoved him off balance and he fell towards the floor. He then thought he heard Jeff in the distance, shouting a warning, but it was too late and the loud clap of gunfire reverberated through the small study.

* * *

The world had stopped spinning suddenly and it was making Alex's stomach churn. She swallowed back the nausea and held her breath as the angry, confused glares of all three men seemed to burn into her skin.

As if to ram home the point, the radio pinned at her shoulder on her Kevlar vest crackled a low whisper of betrayal and it seemed suddenly pointless to try and deny their accusatory stares.

"Okay," Alex nodded and closed her eyes. "I answered the hail."

"You did _what_?"

Alex couldn't bare to turn and face him, couldn't let herself see that John – who she could sense was backing away from her – was now also regarding her in disgust.

"You gave away our position!" Gordon groaned.

"They already knew." Alex countered, "This is all a trap."

"I _knew _it!" Gordon spat in fury, "Those god-damned sons of bitches! I _knew _it!"

Alex chanced a glance back up at Scott and Virgil and saw the hurt on their pale faces.

"Henry Shaw is playing both sides." She offered carefully, "He called Hanover. Hanover called me."

"Hey?" Scott urged quickly and shot a quick warning glare at Gordon who was snorting derisively.

Alex sighed heavily. "You were brought here to be neutralised. They couldn't risk shooting you down over the city so they brought you here to do it quietly. Henry made the call and then warned Hanover." She shrugged slightly, "Hanover decided we ought not to let you guys know … so that you would behave normally and not arouse suspicion."

Gordon laughed sarcastically and got another angry implied threat from his eldest brother.

"Go on." Virgil prompted quietly.

"They're waiting for authorisation but Henry is stalling. He told me to do the same. Taking care of the ambulance was the only way I could think of to - "

"Yeah, _right_!" Gordon groaned, "Like we're gonna believe anything you - "

"Gordon, _shut_ up!" Came the annoyed reproach. This time from John.

Alex dared to look at him now. She turned and met the full pain of the doubt in his eyes and the slight tremble of his lips.

John shook his head slowly. "Please tell me you're not lying."

Alex gasped and felt tears brimming. She stood from the bed, noting the instant reaction from Scott and Virgil and knowing they could easily overpower her.

Slowing her movements, she carefully faced them and smiled thinly. "I'm sorry. I had to think fast and it was the best I could do. Henry said help is on the way. Personally, I don't think he would have warned us if he wasn't on your side." She watched them considering this for a moment. "I … I'm sorry."

Alex stepped away from the bed and turned to walk away from them. And she then gasped as she saw the figure at the far end of the cargo bay.

The two women reacted in swift, mirrored response and within less than a heartbeat had both drawn their weapons.

"No!" John shouted a desperate warning, his voice accompanied by the shocked gasps of his brothers.

The two women paused. Safeties off and guns aimed at each other's heads, they glared at each other angrily, barely nanoseconds away from firing.

"She's lying." Wellington offered carefully, her voice hanging in the otherwise breathless silence of the cargo bay.

Alex was watching her every move, ready for the slightest indication that the pilot might be about to squeeze the trigger.

"Alex?" Scott urged timidly.

"It's the truth." Alex replied.

Wellington shook her head slowly, "We were sent to provide escort."

"You were sent to execute them." Alex retorted icily.

"Or maybe you were." Wellington countered.

And there they remained. Locked in each other's sights and poised ready to strike, the four men looking on in horrified disbelief.

"Ladies …" Scott eventually ventured, ignoring the hushed warnings from Virgil and Gordon and taking a step towards Alex. "I see the dilemma here but, I must say, I'm not overly excited about you potentially putting a bullet into my ship – or each other. There must be a way to - "

And then the alarm sounded.

"Shit!" Gordon hissed and fled towards the flight deck.

Scott glanced back and saw his brother leave, hotly pursued by Virgil. John just looked ready to pass out. And the two women were still ready to shoot something, or someone, despite the shrill claxon that echoed around them.

"Missile lock!" Virgil was breathless and ashen as he stumbled back into the cargo bay. "They've got missile lock!"

Now all eyes were on Wellington and she suddenly seemed to falter for a second. Raising her free hand in a gesture of calm, she then reached down and pulled the radio from her belt. "Baxter this is Wellington. What the hell is going on?"

The radio hissed for a moment. "Just following orders, sir."

"What?" Wellington exclaimed, "Stand down, Baxter. I repeat: _stand down_!"

"Sorry, Serg." Came the crackled reply. "The order to engage comes from higher up."

"No!" Wellington gasped, shaking her head and lowering her gun with a groan of dismay. "Oh hell no …"

* * *

Landing heavily on the carpeted floor, Brains then grunted with the force of Transom falling on top of him and the wind was knocked out of him. It was a few seconds before he dared try to breathe and the world was spinning dizzily around him.

"Brains? Brains? Oh god, no!"

Jeff. Brains listened for a moment to the struggle that erupted in the doorway and then new voices began to call out from the hall beyond.

"Brains?"

Brains opened his eyes and gazed up at the panelled ceiling. Jeff's pallid face then loomed into view and he stared at his friend in shock.

"Are you …?" Jeff seemed hardly able to complete the query.

It was then that Brains realised that Transom still covered him, her weight preventing him from moving much more than his right arm and with this free hand he began to push her off.

Jeff quickly crouched beside Brains and reached out to help roll the woman away from his stunned friend.

Frowning in confusion and shock, Brains allowed Jeff to pull him up into a sitting position and they were both then relieved to discover that, aside from a growing bump where his head had met the ground, he was unharmed.

Brains looked across to see Parker and Penny firmly re-securing the man that had evidently escaped his bonds. He then turned back to Jeff and suddenly he knew his error. The events of the past few, seemingly endless minutes played over in his mind and he knew what had happened.

"Brains?" Jeff urged quietly, reaching out to place a hand on his friend's arm.

Brains looked up into Jeff's concerned face and swallowed back unexpected tears. "She … she s-s-save - "

The oozing bullet wound in the back of the pink silk jacket spoke volumes. There was hardly reason to confirm what was so blatantly evident but Brains somehow felt the need to regardless. He reached gently under her shoulder and found the hollow at the base of her neck and the thin pulse that flickered there.

With a gasp, Brains rolled her onto her back and heard her gentle groan of response. He watched her eyes flutter open and she stared up at him, unfocused and barely conscious.

"Th-th-thunder - " She coughed noisily and grimaced at the blood that filled her mouth.

"Easy," Brains soothed, placing his hand on her shoulder. The exit wound in the middle of her chest had now become apparent and the dark crimson puddle spreading across the centre of the jacket said trying to save her was pointless.

"Help."

Brains groaned in dismay, "I …" He glanced down at the darker blood welling up from deep within her and shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry."

"No." She smiled weakly and lifted her bound hands up to her right ear. "Help … coming."

And suddenly her arms sank to the floor and she was still.

"Oh crap." Penny stepped into the room and beheld the scene. "Well … there goes our only asset."

Jeff turned to her in concern, "But she gave you all she knew."

"She could have given me _anything_!" Penny sighed in annoyance. "And if the names are red herrings then …" She threw up her hands in disappointment and turned back to glare angrily at the bound man in Parker's firm grip. "Nice one."

"Yeah. Cheers." Parker growled and gave the man a sharp jab with his elbow.

Jeff watched the man in intrigue and saw the dismay in his flushed face. It was then that he understood what had transpired and whom the man had intended to sink a bullet into. He looked back to Brains and saw him gazing sadly at the woman's body.

"She kept trying to apologize," Brains began quietly, "I wouldn't li-li-li-didn't hear her. She was trying to tell me everything … trying to turn … to help us." He shook his head sadly, "And even after ever-ever-all that she and The Hood did … I think I almost believed her … but now …"

Jeff held his breath and let his gaze fall back down to the dead woman; his heart thudding against his chest as the truth slowly sank in. "Transom?" He muttered in disbelief, looking to Penny and seeing her reply in the dismay on her face. "But … "

"I'm so sorry, Jeff." Penny sighed loudly. "We thought it best."

Jeff stared at her in bewilderment and then turned back to Brains and watched him studying the dead Transom in interest.

Brains swallowed hard and carefully reached out to roll Transom's eyelids closed. He then frowned and gently turned her head. Sweeping her hair aside, he saw the small comm. device in her ear and pulled it free.

Brains placed the small device in his ear and listened for a second. Only a few words were spoken at first and he repeated them softly, his heart sinking.

"What?" Jeff urged suddenly.

"Thunderbird 2." Brains muttered in disbelief.

That was enough for Jeff. He was on his feet and rushing over to the comm. panel, calling up the location of 2 and opening a channel. "Gordon! Gordon, what's happening? What? _Missile_! What the f- Gordon, get out of there! You hear me? Get the _hell_ out of there!"

Penny covered her mouth in shock and tears flooded down her cheeks and over her fingers. She looked away from Jeff's heart-breaking panic and her eyes fell on Brains' face. He was distracted, listening to the voices coming through the earpiece and then suddenly, rather oddly, he was smiling.

_Tbc _… 


	29. Chapter 29

"_Gordon! Gordon, what's happening? What? **Missile**! What the f- Gordon, get out of there! You hear me? Get the **hell** out of there_!"

Jeff's voice echoed through the still, recycled air of Thunderbird 5, the words bouncing off the walls and seeming to double in intensity as they returned to the lone pilot at the comm. station.

Alan couldn't breathe.

It wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening.

But the terror in Gordon's transmitted reply was all too believable.

Alan stared at the console with unseeing eyes, the monitors before him vague and unreadable through the fog of his tears. A few of them now tumbled down his cheeks, allowing a brief moment of focus before more gathered.

And there she was. The green signal transponder that was Thunderbird 2 nestled inside the hangar. And three of the four harriers now facing her and ready to deliver their inescapable payload.

"Move …" Alan urged in a whisper, his voice caught in his tight throat.

The signal remained. Still and stunned. Like a rabbit in the bright headlights of inevitability.

"Oh god … _move_ …" Alan brought his hands up to his face and covered his eyes, no longer able to watch the scene unfold.

"_Lin dzeh dibeh-yazzie bi-sodih mosai ne-ahs-jah na-as-tso-si tkin nesh-chee klizzie."_

Alan parted his fingers and blinked a clearer view of the comm. It was a transmission on the police band again and his heart sank.

How could they have been so stupid? After everything that had happened, they could not trust _anyone_. Surely Scott knew better than that? Or if not Scott, then at least the cynical, wiser mind of the second eldest should have known that something was wrong. They could be sure of no one. Not the Air Force. Not the Secret Service. Not the police. No matter how much you thought you knew them.

And now they were trapped. Lured into an ambush.

Just like before.

Alan shuddered. But his Dad had said The Hood was dead. Very dead. Not that anything would satisfy Alan except perhaps seeing for himself the cold, blue body of that bastard.

More tears welled and Alan brushed them away angrily, suddenly furious at being stuck in the confines of the station, a million miles away from his family.

It was a complete role reversal. The Hood had trapped his family up here and seemingly condemned them to the delights of a suffocating plunge towards a fiery end.

He had thought then that there could be nothing worse. But then maybe he should never have contemplated that. Maybe somebody somewhere had heard his thoughts and decided to show him that things could indeed be a hell of a lot worse.

At least during the island siege he could _do _something. He had almost enjoyed the cat and mouse chase through the jungle and had revelled in the pursuit to London. Full of adrenaline fuelled-confidence and the bravado of youth, he had thought of nothing except catching The Hood and making him pay. And it had distracted him from the awful image of his family slowly spinning towards their doom.

Only when he had confronted The Hood in the Bank of London and been almost strangled to death had he understood the danger. And he had never been so suddenly and overwhelmingly terrified.

Until now.

Alan watched the unmoving signals on the monitors before him and then saw the approaching transmission. The blue transponder ID gave a brief glimmer of hope.

"Dad!" His voice cracked and he tried to swallow back the heavy lump in his throat.

"Alan." Jeff's gentle tone was calm and even. Or was that shocked and resigned?

Alan choked on a sob and hugged his arms around himself, trying to stop his body from trembling.

"Alan, we're powering up Thunderbird 1. We'll be in London in 8 minutes."

Alan smiled thinly. 8 minutes was about 7 minutes and 58 seconds too long.

Unable to find the words to reply, Alan watched the blue signal beginning to move and then glanced back at the radar images of RAF Northolt. The ominous yellow crosshairs still covered Thunderbird 2 and she still silent and motionless. And now so were the Harriers.

Why hadn't they fired yet?

Alan frowned in concern and felt his heart racing. Oh god. Maybe they wanted Jeff. Maybe they wanted the commander and chief to put an end to International Rescue for good.

And he was now heading right for them.

Alan reached over to re-open the channel to Thunderbird 1 and was about to call in a warning when it then suddenly occurred to him that the RAF personnel were no longer transmitting.

Alan studied the monitor that was recording the chatter between the Harriers and the base and his frown grew. Nothing. Sergeant Wellington was quiet and there was no longer any confirmation broadcasting between the Harriers.

And then a new signal entered the fray.

Alan held his breath and his wide eyes tracked the approach of the unidentified craft. With clumsy slowness, he called up a satellite image of the area and leaned forward to peer at the snowy black and white picture. John had neglected to mention in his tutorials that Five could link up with other orbiting satellites and Alan had been sure that this was due to the probably very illegal nature of the move. Stumbling across the programme while he had been meddling with areas of the computer network that he had been told to stay clear of, he had been most delighted and he now mumbled to himself as he tried to recall how he had made it function.

The picture was finally emerging and Alan held back from the RAF complex to see the whole situation. The three Harriers facing the immense hangar and the seemingly abandoned runway behind. And the black helicopter that was now looming into view from the west.

"_Wol-la-chee gah dzeh wol-la-chee dibeh wol-la-chee ma-e dzeh."_

Alan gasped in horror and the police band suddenly burst into life.

"_Winter, this is Pryce. Are you receiving? Over?"_

"_Hanover? Shaw here. We're almost on you. ETA 2 minutes."_

"_Roger that."_

Alan listened to the continued volley of calls and could not make out what on earth was going on. And who the hell was in the helicopter.

"_Thunderbird 2, this is Black Hawk Two-Niner. What is your status? Please advise."_

Nothing.

Alan listened to the silence and closed his eyes.

"_Thunderbird 2, we are on approach and stand ready to assist you. Over?"_

Yeah, right, Alan scoffed. That's what the RAF said.

Still nothing from Thunderbird 2 and Alan glanced at the approach of Thunderbird 1.

With a sigh, he flicked open a channel and cleared his throat.

"Thunderbird 1 from Thunderbird 5. We have a new player in London. Dad, I think you should stay away."

"Negative."

Despite his terror, Alan couldn't help but smile; so that was where his stubborn streak came from.

"Dad, I don't know who these guys are and I really think they want to trap _you_ somehow. I don't - "

"_Thunderbird 2 this is Black Hawk Two-Niner. Please be advised we have Agent Miller aboard."_

Alan stared at the comm. and frowned in intrigue. Why did he know that name?

"Alan? What's happening?" Jeff demanded worriedly.

"I …" Alan shook his head, "God, Dad, I really don't know. I - "

"_Eva!"_

Alan froze. Scott. That was Scott's voice.

The comm. went quiet again for a moment.

"_Affirmative, International Rescue. And it looks like I'm just in time to save your asses!"_

"_Woo-hoo!" _Scott yelled over the comm.

Alan smiled and opened the channel to feed the transmissions through to Thunderbird 1. "Dad." He quickly offered by way of explanation. "I think the cavalry just arrived."

"_Go Eva! Yeah!" _Scott shouted excitedly, _"Oh honey, am I glad to hear your voice!"_

Eva laughed gently. _"Ditto, International Rescue. Thought we might be too late. Please advise on your status."_

"_Um. We're okay. Could use some new underwear, though."_

"_Thanks for that. I meant your craft."_

"_Oh. She's good."_

"_Thank goodness. It worked."_

"_What worked?"_

"_The EM weapon."_

Alan's smile pulled at his flushed cheeks and he let out a heavy sigh.

"_The EM weapon?"_ Scott urged.

"_You betcha. Thought it might come in handy. Not sure the Brits will be too pleased that we broke their planes, though."_

"Thunderbird 1 to Thunderbird 2 and Blackbird Two-Niner. We are on approach and glad to hear all is well." Jeff suddenly called over the comm. "ETA 2 minutes."

"_Roger that, Thunderbird 1." _Scott acknowledged merrily.

"Oh. And Agent Miller?" Jeff added quickly, "Thank you."

* * *

Scott ran back through to the cargo bay, grinning in delight. His merriment was then ripped from his face as he beheld the continued standoff between the two women.

"Alex!" Scott called out carefully, aware that only the slightest flinch would end the life of the RAF pilot. And probably Alex too. Never mind the obvious danger of hull-piercing rounds in their giant plane.

John had sunk back onto the stretcher and now craned his head round to peer hopefully at his brother. He got a slight nod in return and fell back against the pillows.

"Alex, it's okay. Help is here. The missiles have been neutralised."

Alex chanced a quick glance at the approaching Scott. "Really?"

"Really." Scott urged softly.

"How?" Wellington demanded.

"Listen, just trust me. Ok?" Scott had ventured daringly close and raised his hands in a gesture of calm. "It's over."

Wellington let out a loud sigh and nodded in agreement, uncocking her gun and letting her arm drop slowly to her side.

"Alex." Scott prompted carefully.

Alex shook her head in defiance. "She's part of this."

"_Al_" Came the weary caution from John.

Scott turned to Wellington, noting in admiration that she had not risen to defend the challenge but had in fact holstered her weapon. He looked back to Alex, saw her raised arm trembling slightly and her face wrinkled with confusion.

"Alex." Scott stepped closer to her, now able to see the tears welling in her dark eyes. "Please."

"I … " Alex's frown grew. "But - "

Scott saw her hesitancy and took his chance. In one swift move, he had closed the distance and reached out to lower her gun to the floor. She countered instinctively, giving his ribs a sharp jab with her elbow and then recoiling to throw a punch at his face. But Scott grabbed her free arm tightly at the wrist and secured her firmly, groaning slightly as she strained against him.

"Alex!" John called out worriedly.

Alex paused for a moment and then suddenly seemed to recognise her assailant. She nodded a mixture of regret and understanding and relaxed her stance.

Scott watched Alex warily, releasing his grip with measured caution and ready to hold fast if she attempted to struggle.

"Sorry." Alex offered grimly, stepping back from him and shaking off his hands.

Scott nodded slowly. "S'okay."

Alex turned towards Wellington and managed something of a smile as she apologised.

Wellington shrugged briefly. "Hey, no worries. That was a tight spot there."

"No shit!" Scott laughed suddenly, dragging his hands through his hair and letting out a low grumble of a sigh. He saw her smile in response and she then turned and headed back down the ramp.

"Scott?"

Scott turned and saw his brothers looking on in concern.

"The chopper just landed." Virgil offered, his wary eyes resting squarely on Alex. "And Da- Thunderbird 1 is making her approach."

"Okay." Scott nodded, "Get ready to leave." He nodded towards the open cargo bay and the hangar beyond. "I'd best go get someone to open the door for us." He glanced at Alex and seemed about to say something more but instead jogged off towards the ramp and after Wellington's departing figure.

"Alex?"

Alex closed her eyes and tried to ignore the exhaustion in his quiet voice. She took a moment to somehow collect her thoughts and then glanced behind her. The other boys had retreated back to the flight deck and she sighed in relief.

"They didn't mean anything before …" John began softly, watching her in concern. "We've been through hell and - "

"They don't know me." Alex countered evenly, "What possible reason do they have to trust me?"

John laughed slightly, "Well, me."

"And what exactly does that mean?" Alex frowned, turning to face him. "What exactly do I mean to you?"

John made no reply but held her gaze firmly.

"Why don't they know about me?"

"Because it's none of their business."

Alex smiled suddenly and nodded. "Right …"

"Look, it's tough, okay. I'm a private person and it's hard to keep things sacred and special when you live in your brother's pockets." John looked down at his hands and sighed heavily. "I wanted to keep you just for me … not to be fuel for their teasing or the source of constant questioning …"

Alex watched him for a moment and suddenly wondered how she could be so cruel as to load more worries onto his already broken form. He was so pale and in such a mess. And suddenly so very vulnerable.

No. She had to be angry. She needed her anger to stay strong.

"I'm sorry." Alex offered eventually, crossing the distance between them and leaning down to place a kiss on his forehead. "I love you." She stated evenly and avoided the heart-rending confusion in his tired eyes as she turned and walked away.

And John watched her go. Knowing she had made up her mind and too weary to put up a fight, he watched her head down the ramp and out of view.

"Dude …"

John spun at the voice, wincing a little at the pain running down his torso.

"Dude." Gordon repeated quietly, his gaze turning from the now almost empty cargo bay to his brother. "I had no idea, John. I'm … oh man, I'm so sorry."

John shrugged a response.

"You want me to go get her?"

"More than you know." John whispered in reply and then smiled thinly. "Which is precisely why you can't."

Gordon frowned and opened his mouth to question this logic further when they both then heard the grinding and scraping of an enormous metal door and then the delighted whoops of joy from the hangar.

* * *

Thunderbird 1 made gentle contact with the tarmac of the runway at the same time that a convoy of marked and unmarked police cars sped across the airfield.

Jeff was out of the jet before the engines had fully shut down and fled across to the open doors of the hangar. He smiled in delight as he saw the hidden craft within and shook his head in wonder.

"Dad!" Scott called out merrily, turning from the group of personnel and hurrying outside to meet his father.

"How'd he get her _in_ there!" Jeff chuckled, reaching out to grasp Scott's arm and his fingers gripping tightly.

"Hell knows." Scott grinned, "We're about ready to pull her back out though."

Jeff nodded and then turned his attention to the group inside the hangar.

"Come." Scott edged back a little. "Let me introduce you."

Jeff firmly shook the hand of Squadron Leader Hanover and Flight Sergeant Wellington and then smiled in delight as he turned to Eva.

"Miss Miller, I believe that's two we owe you." Jeff laughed.

Eva shrugged modestly, "Oh, who's counting!"

"Thank you." Jeff urged sincerely and leaned forward to place a kiss on her cheek.

"And you remember Alex?" Scott prompted.

Jeff turned to the policewoman and smiled warmly, "Of course. Hello again."

Alex shook his hand and then nodded towards the various officers that were climbing from the row of police vehicles behind them. "Excuse me." She smiled and headed out of the hangar.

Jeff watched her depart and frowned in interest as he watched her greet her colleagues.

"Henry!" Eva called out suddenly and bolted from the hangar.

Jeff glanced at Scott.

"Henry Shaw, MI5. He got us out of the hospital and brought us here." Scott explained quickly.

Jeff's frown grew.

"It seems Henry was playing both sides and gave Hanover the heads up." Scott continued. "Eva called him in."

Jeff watched the amicable exchange between the two agents and shook his head slowly. "Spooks …"

"Oh, believe me, I've found a whole new respect for them." Scott chuckled. "Come on."

Henry Shaw turned and saw the two men approaching, smiling in delight as he recognised Jeff's uniform.

"I believe I owe you a debt of gratitude, sir." Jeff offered merrily, offering his hand.

"On the contrary," Henry countered, shaking Jeff's hand excitedly, "I'm delighted to have the opportunity to repay you in kind."

Jeff frowned in intrigue.

"My grand daughter was on the monorail." Henry shook his head slowly, "If it wasn't for you …"

Jeff smiled and was sure that Henry meant 'you' as a collective term but he would nevertheless pass the thanks onto his youngest at some stage. Not that Alan usually needed help for his head to grow but in this instance a little positivity would perhaps go a long way.

"Well, thank you." Jeff concluded warmly, pulling back his hand. "Thank you all." He addressed to the group. "Now, we should really get underway."

"Of course." Eva stepped forward and nodded in enthusiasm. "I'll help you load the device?"

"Load? What? Who?" Jeff stumbled.

Eva shrugged, "Well, it's either destroy it like we did the rest of the stuff or put it to good use."

Jeff frowned and glanced back towards his waiting craft. He touched his earpiece and took a deep breath. "Thunderbird 1, you think you could make anything of an EM generator." He winced as an instant reply of stammered excitement tore through his ear and he laughed as he turned back to Eva. "I believe we will indeed take it off your hands, Ms Miller."

* * *

The stripped down device was surprisingly compact but also very heavy. Eva, Scott and Jeff groaned at the strain as they heaved the EM generator up the ramp and into the cargo bay of Thunderbird 2.

"Dudes!" Virgil gasped in horror. "Why didn't you call me? I could've brought out the firefly or something."

The EM generator settled on the deck with a thud and Jeff winced as he arched his back. "Ah … I didn't think of that."

Virgil sighed in dismay and then stepped closer to examine the torpedo-like structure. "So … this is it?"

"Yup." Jeff nodded, "And the answer to a whole heap of problems, according to Brains."

"I sure hope so." Eva smiled, dusting her hands on her trousers. She then glanced around the immense cargo bay and whistled in awe. "This is _amazing_ …" Turning back to Jeff, she saw him fidgeting impatiently and she smiled in understanding. "I should let you guys get out of here."

"Thanks," Jeff nodded, "I'd love to talk but we need to get John home."

Eva frowned suddenly. "John? How is he?"

Scott hurried over to her and took her arm, nodding towards the far end of the cargo bay. He turned to Jeff and asked for just a few moments.

Jeff nodded and then headed back out of the ship, muttering something about ensuring all the loose ends were tied up.

John seemed to be asleep. Scott and Eva paused for a moment inside the small medical bay and Eva looked on in horror.

"Oh man …" Eva groaned, "I knew it was bad but …"

John stirred and lifted his head slowly.

"Hey …" Eva hurried over to him and crouched down beside the stretcher.

"Eva?" John smiled warmly, "It seems you saved the day."

Eva shrugged slightly, "It was the least I could do."

John's smile faded.

"Listen," Eva dropped her voice to but a whisper but was then aware of Scott making a polite exit from the room. "I never got a chance to say thank you"

John closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the pillow. "Don't …"

"Please. If it wasn't for you, I'd … thank you, John. I mean it."

John swallowed hard and managed a brief nod. "Sure … but … I just want to forget it all …"

Eva nodded slowly. "I understand." She reached out and placed a hand on his arm. "Listen … if you ever need to talk - "

"I know." John's smile returned and he lifted his head again to turn to her. "I guess I'll need to brush up on my Navajo."

Eva chuckled gently, "Oh, that's so last year – _everyone's _doing it now." She squeezed his arm gently and shrugged her shoulders again. "Maybe we need to invent our own code."

"Oh, that's _so_ seventh grade!" John laughed and then slowly became serious once more. "I'll find a secure bandwidth and scramble the signal."

"Do." Eva nodded and stood slowly. "Goodbye." She turned and saw Jeff approaching. They again shook hands and Jeff earnestly nodded his thanks before then watching her leave.

Jeff stepped cautiously into the medical bay and a heavy frown sank over his tired eyes. He managed a brief smile of greeting as he edged closer and took in the painful sight of his battered son.

"Please, Dad …" John sighed, "Don't …"

Jeff took a deep breath and crouched down beside the stretcher. "I'll have to look up some old friends and get some advice. See when is safe for you to go back up there. Or if …"

"Don't even think it, Dad." John urged softly, "I'll be fine."

Jeff managed a thin smile and his frown faded slightly.

John watched him for a moment, his chest aching as he watched the pain and sadness that filled his father's eyes. "God, I'm so sorry." He husked after a moment. "If I hadn't - "

"Don't!" Jeff urged quickly, "Don't you even think of blaming yourself!"

John looked away, fighting back tears.

"Oh John …" Jeff sighed, "I wish there was something I could do to …" he glanced back into the cargo bay behind him and watched Virgil securing the EM device for transport. He then met the confused gaze of their passenger and smiled in reassurance.

Alex smiled back.

Jeff wanted to tell John what he had done, wanted to show him that he had called her back, forced her aboard. Something had told him that his son was going to need her in the hard days ahead.

But first, he needed a moment alone with his son. And he knew he'd made the right decision about Alex when she had instantly understood.

"Dad …?" John turned back to his father, tears brimming and his face crumbling.

"Oh God, John." And suddenly Jeff was standing and leaning over the narrow bed, slipping his arms around John's shoulders and pulling him close.

John groaned as the firm embrace pulled at aching muscles and broken ribs. This sort of affection rarely occurred between them and it felt wrong. He resisted for a moment, needing to move back from the pressure of his father's chest against the deep wound in his own. But then suddenly he remembered the many times when he had somehow yearned for a moment like this and he relaxed, melting into the hold, tears flowing freely down his face.

Neither of them said a word. They simply held each other close and cried . Long after Virgil had quietly informed them that Scott had climbed into Thunderbird 1 and would be leading them home. And all through the engine fire up and Thunderbird 2's powerful ascent. Only when they were cruising at high altitude over the Pacific and fast approaching home did Jeff gently conclude the embrace and lean back from John. He offered a firm smile and nodded in understanding. There was nothing more to say.

John rested back against the pillows. Tired and sore but suddenly feeling so completely safe. And very, very loved.

_Fin._


End file.
